Doppelgangers
by LMCofTIC
Summary: A year after the events of Move And You're Dead, Nicky's new family arranges for unique gifts to thank IR for their generosity. This is a repost of an old story, no updates made. Complete.
1. Chapter 1

_CHAPTER ONE_

Nicky snuggled back into the pillows as his mother tucked the comforter around him tightly. She leaned over and kissed his forehead, smiling. He returned her smile.

"Good night, Nicky. I love you."

"I love you, too. Mom."

His mother's grin widened and she ruffled his hair before turning off the bedside lamp and exiting the room, closing his door softly behind her. Nicky marveled at his good fortune. It was only two months until Christmas. This time last year, he'd not only been an orphan, but one sick little boy. Until that special, magical Christmas had come...a Christmas which seemed to have changed his whole life.

He'd been at the Coralville Children's Hospital for fourteen long months by the time Christmas had come last year. His birth mother had abandoned him when he was a baby, leaving Nicky in the foster care system for most of his young life. Then he'd been diagnosed with tuberculosis. After that it had been an extended visit to Coralville for him.

And then Christmas. He'd almost completely recovered from TB and was about to be cycled back into the foster care system when a rocket had delivered Christmas gifts for all the boys and girls in the hospital. He remembered the anticipation, his excitement and that of the rest of the patients as the head doctor and head nurse had handed out gifts. They all waited until everyone had one, then tore into them, some squealing with joy, others giggling and still others with tears streaming down their faces.

Nicky's package was lightweight. He remembered wondering what on Earth could be in there that was so light. He got the wrapping paper off. He opened the lid to the box. And there, waiting for him, was a card that gave him the greatest gift he could ever have hoped for: a visit to International Rescue headquarters.

Nicky turned over in bed, recalling how he'd just come to his feet, holding the card in his hand and staring at it, unable to believe what it said. The nurse had come to his side and smiled broadly.

"Nicky, it looks like you're going to meet International Rescue," she'd said.

"I can't believe it. It can't be true."

"Oh, it is, Nicky," the doctor had said as he'd approached them. "Come with me."

It had been a whirlwind Christmas. Nicky recollected every detail as though it had happened yesterday: riding in Thunderbird 2 with Virgil; touring the entire International Rescue base and seeing up close all those amazing machines; opening gifts with the members of International Rescue; the food; listening as they sang carols; sitting with Mr. "Santa" Tracy as Thunderbird 3 had launched from right in the middle of the roundhouse; and the final, magical part of the evening when Brains had made it snow. Snow, there on a tropical island.

Nicky sighed at the memory. Everyone had bugged him mercilessly upon his return, wanting to know every last detail of where he'd been and what he'd seen. But he'd promised Mr. Tracy and the rest of them before he left that he'd never breathe a word of his experience to another living soul. Nicky had kept that promise.

Almost in reward for doing so, it seemed, one week later a couple had come to Coralville inquiring after any children up for adoption. They'd met Nicky last after seeing six other children, and an instant connection between man, woman and child was evident to all present. Marvin and Teresa Longfellow quickly adopted Nicky. He had a new family, a new last name and, more recently, a new puppy...and had never been happier.

In his own mind, Nicky was certain it had been that magical Christmas with International Rescue that had changed his luck so drastically. Now, as the first Christmas with his new family approached, Nicky fervently wished there were something he could do to repay those wonderful people on that island. Suddenly, as he lay there in bed, it came to him. He jumped to his feet and raced out to the living room, where his mother and father sat quietly watching television together.

"Nicky! What are you doing out of bed?" Marvin asked.

"Dad, Mom! I figured out a way to pay International Rescue back!"

"What? What for?"

"Mom, you know I visited their base last Christmas."

"Yes, I know that."

"Well, I've been wanting to do something for them, something to thank them."

Marvin smiled. "What have you come up with, son?"

"We took a tour of a factory on our field trip in school last week."

"Yes," Teresa nodded thoughtfully, "that marionette factory."

"Well, what if we had them make marionettes for International Rescue?"

"That sounds like a _splendid_ idea, Nicky!" Marvin said, coming to his feet. "But what would they look like?"

"We could make them look like Mr.-um, I mean, like Santa and his elves," Nicky replied cautiously. "I know what they look like, I could help them."

"I think it's a fine idea, Nicky, but we can't afford to pay for all those marionettes."

Nicky's face fell. "Maybe they'll do it for free?"

"We'll talk about it in the morning, Nick," Marvin said, herding his son back toward his bedroom. "We'll figure something out."

* * *

"Say, Arnie, would you take a look at this letter?"

Arnie Reynolds came to stand beside his head puppet designer, Jay Fields. "What's it about?"

"You remember that kid who spent last Christmas with International Rescue? That one from the Children's Hospital?"

He nodded. "Yep. Couldn't a word edgeways out of him about it after it was all over. Drove the media crazy!"

"Well, get a load of this: he wants to repay them for their kindness and generosity by having us create marionettes of them as a gift for this coming Christmas!"

"You're kidding!" Arnie replied, snatching the letter from Jay's hand. He read through it, and then shook it in the air, crowing, "Jay, this is it! This is our big break! Once the world finds out Living Puppets made gifts for International Rescue, we'll be in such high demand we won't be able to keep up!"

"But they say they can't pay us."

"Doesn't matter! The publicity alone will be payment enough! Jay, get that kid in here. We've got less than two months. We need to get going, _now_!"

* * *

Belah Gaat sat in an orate golden chair behind an equally ornate golden table. Surrounding him were grotesque, yet priceless, golden statues...tributes to the Lords of Darkness he served. He held a newspaper in front of him, reading the story on page two with great interest.

Laughing long and low, he lowered the paper to the table, his mouth twisted into something like a snarl. "This is perfect," he growled, "absolutely perfect. It is less than two weeks until Christmas and those silly gifts for International Rescue are complete. Hanging there, waiting for me. Waiting to be brought to life!"

Belah's eyes glowed with glee as he rose to his feet and approached one particularly ugly statue...it looked like a cross between an angry dragon and a bull. "Manay, tidak lama lagi ini adalah masa."

He laughed once more, an evil, maniacal laugh. "You shall help me, Manay. You shall help me bring down International Rescue once and for all!"

* * *

"What do you mean, they're gone?" Jay practically screamed.

Arnie cringed. "I don't know, Jay, when we left last night they were hanging in the Finishing Room. We were going to package them today and deliver them to Nicky and his family. When Laura went in there to get them, they were gone!"

"I can't believe this! There are less than two weeks 'til Christmas! The eyes of the world are on Living Puppets, what the hell are we gonna do?"

* * *

An ominous fire cast shadows throughout the vast cavern-like room. On each side of the fire were golden statues, one half-man, half-bull and the other half-man, half dragon. An altar made of marble stood in front of the fire, covered with incense and burning black candles. A small silver bowl filled with goat's blood was set right in the middle of it, while six feet in front of the altar there was a tall wooden rack. From this rack, suspended by coarse black wire, hung six marionettes who, realistic as they were, might have been 1 1/2-foot living dolls.

The first one on the left looked to be an older gentleman, his face rugged, his hair salt and pepper in color. A pleasant smile graced his face, and he wore a Santa Claus outfit, complete with pointed red hat.

The second puppet had a full head of dark brown hair that looked almost black. His eyes were darkest blue, and his full lower lip curved into a smile. Next to that one was a chestnut-haired re-creation, with eyes the color of honey, right when it's removed from the hive. The startling features of a light-complexioned, blonde man graced the countenance of the next marionette, his blue eyes looking very dark in the gloom. Second-to-last hung a tawny-skinned puppet, his hair the color of copper and his eyes the color of burning embers. Finally came yet another blonde-headed creation, with large blue eyes and somewhat of a baby face.

A tall shadow towered over the rack of marionettes as Evil joined them. A low hum could be heard, rising slowly in pitch as the shadow approached. It came to rest directly in front of the rack, cloaked in a black robe, a hood covering its head entirely.

"MmmmmmmmmmMMMMMmmmmmmmmmmmMMMMMmmmmmmmm," the shadow hummed. Then it began to chant, its voice low and terrifying. "Manay datang ke hadapan, Manay, saya meminta anda. Manay timbul. Membuat ketika saya memerintah. Datang. Datang. Manay, datang."

The figure reached up and pulled his hood back, revealing himself to be none other than Belah Gaat, known worldwide as mastermind and arch-criminal the Hood. The fire behind the altar burned brighter, flames licking the twenty-foot high ceiling. The Hood repeated his summons, his voice louder as he closed his eyes and let his head fall back slightly.

"Manay datang ke hadapan, Manay, saya meminta anda. Manay timbul. Membuat ketika saya memerintah. Datang. Datang. Manay, datang."

Raising his arms toward the heavens, he repeated his words over and over again. Suddenly, the man/bull statue to the left began to move, as did the man/dragon statue to the right. Belah could feel the forces of darkness filling the room, answering his call to action. The two statues rose to their full height of over eight feet tall and stepped into the crackling blaze as Belah's voice droned on.

Several minutes passed, the only sound the roaring fire and Belah's continued chants. Then one figure stepped out of the fire, a golden being at least ten feet tall. Its head was that of a dragon, lips curled in a monstrously hideous grin. Its scaly neck tapered into the body of a bull, its hands nothing but hooves, while the thick legs gave way to bare human feet. It raised its fore hooves into the air and snarled, roaring with seeming fury.

Belah opened his eyes and stared at the creature, sweat beading his bald head. "Manay, mempunyai mereka!" he thundered, pointing one finger at the beast. It snarled again and walked around to the front of the wooden rack, eyeing each of the marionettes that hung helplessly suspended before it.

Holding both hooves against the first puppet, a bolt of what could only be described as lightning shot out of the fire into the dragon-head's eyes, causing it to roar with delight. Belah could hear the whispers of approaching beings, and he raised his arms in front of him, level with his shoulders as he continued to chant.

"Bawa mereka. Bawa mereka. Bawa mereka!"

Dark shadows seemed to move. One floated near to the beast before entering its back. Belah watched with twisted pleasure as the smoke-like apparition moved down the beast's arms, through its hooves and into the marionette. The puppet's jaw dropped, as if gasping for air, its eyes opening wide, its arms and legs jerking in protest.

"Yes. Yes!" Belah whispered, a yellow glow lighting his eyes.

The beast moved to the dark-haired marionette. As before, he placed his hooves against its chest. Another smoke-like apparition entered the beast's back and made its way down its arms into the puppet, whose eyes popped open as its mouth began to move. A frown suddenly creased its forehead as it came to life, heaving breath into its lungs for the first time.

"_Yes_!" Belah almost howled. He watched with increasing delight as the beast and the apparitions performed their evil work on each of the marionettes in turn. When at last the final one in line came to life, the demon turned, snarled ferociously at Belah, and leapt over the wooden rack and altar into the fire beyond.

Emerging from the fire on the left was the half-man/half-bull. It returned to its dais and cemented into a statue once more, soon followed by its half-man/half-dragon counterpart to the right. As the fire died down to nothing more than what you might find in a traditional fireplace, Belah approached the six marionettes that were squirming against their strings, their eyes glowing red.

"Yes, my little demons," Belah's menacing voice erupted as he looked into each of their eyes. "Yes, you know what to do, my children."

They howled and shrieked before suddenly becoming limp again, their eyes and mouths closing, looking as naïve and innocent as they had while hanging in the Finishing Room at Living Puppets. Belah turned, his face twisted, his lips forming a deadly smile.

"And now, International Rescue, your secrets will be mine!"


	2. Chapter 2

_CHAPTER TWO_

"They're what?"

"They're back, Sir! They're back!"

"You've gotta be kiddin' me," Arnie said, racing down the hall after his costume designer, Laura Lane.

"No, I'm not!" she threw back over her shoulder. She raced into the Finishing Room with Arnie hot on her heels.

"Well, I'll be damned," he said softly as he took in the six International Rescue marionettes hanging from their hooks in the ceiling. "When did this happen?"

"We don't know, Sir. I came in here this morning to get the Daxon puppets and there they were, like they'd never left!"

"Well, get the Longfellows on the vid!" Arnie yelled. "It's only two days 'til Christmas!"

* * *

"Calling International Rescue. Calling International Rescue. Come in, please."

Blonde-haired, blue-eyed John Tracy was working on correcting a minor fault in the Duplicate Monitor Room. He heard the voice wafting over the airwaves and headed through the double emergency airlock doorways into the Main Monitor Room. Arriving at the Control Panel, he opened a channel.

"This is International Rescue receiving you. Go ahead."

"Oh, hello, there. Could I speak to Mr. Tracy, please?" a child's voice asked.

Taken aback, John frowned lightly. "Who is this?"

"It's Nicky, Nicky Longfellow."

Face lighting up, John smiled as he responded, "Nicky! How are you? This is John. Remember me from the picture on the wall?"

"Oh, yes, I remember! You were someplace far away and couldn't be home last year. I'm fine, John, just fine. I wonder if I could speak with Mr. Tracy. I have something for all of you, for Christmas, but I don't know how to get it to you."

John had pointed Thunderbird 5's powerful antennae toward Nicky's signal. The scanners detected nothing out of the ordinary, just that the boy was in his home with two adults, presumably his parents.

"You have something for us for Christmas?"

"Yes. I wanted to repay you all for the kindness you showed me last year. I have something very special for you."

John smiled. He and his family knew all about the marionettes Nicky had gotten Living Puppets to create for them. It had been all over the television and newspapers. But he didn't want to spoil the surprise for the young lad, so he pretended to know nothing about it.

"That's awfully nice of you, Nicky. I'll patch you through to Mr. Tracy now. Hang on, would ya?"

"Sure thing. Thanks!"

John did the equivalent of placing Nicky on hold while he opened the line on the special frequency used for direct communications to Tracy Island. "This is Thunderbird 5 calling International Rescue."

He watched as his father's kind face appeared on the monitor. "Hello, John. What's up?"

"Guess who's on the line, Father?"

"Who?"

"It's Nicky. He has some Christmas presents for us."

Jeff Tracy smiled. He'd been wondering when they were going to hear from the boy. After reading about the marionettes, whose pictures had not been released to the public, they all knew it was only a matter of time before they'd be contacted.

"Well, put him through, son!"

"Okay, Nicky, Mr. Tracy's here. Go ahead."

"Mr. Tracy?"

"Hi, Nicky."

"Oh, I'm so glad I got hold of you! Why can't I see you? It says 'Sound Only Selected'."

Jeff smiled and hesitated only a moment before switching to video mode. After all, Nicky already knew what he looked like and, true to his word, had never told anyone the details of his experience. He knew the young man could be trusted.

"Here I am, Nicky. How are you? How are you enjoying your new family?"

"Oh, Mom and Dad are great, Mr. Tracy!" Nicky replied as he watched his Santa appear...minus white beard and red suit...before him. "They're here, but I told them they couldn't watch because of the Secret."

Jeff couldn't help the broad smile that graced his features. "So what's this I hear about Christmas presents?"

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for me last Christmas," Nicky began. "As I've told Mom and Dad, my visit with International Rescue changed my life. I had to find a way to repay you, so Dad helped me."

"What kind of presents would these be?" Jeff asked, playing along with John's mock innocence.

Too young to comprehend that International Rescue, as well as the rest of the world, already knew about the gifts thanks to the media, Nicky grew increasingly excited at the thought of springing his surprise on his friends.

"Oh, Mr. Tracy, if I told you, it would let all the fun out of it!"

Jeff laughed. "Well, are these gifts small enough to fit into Thunderbird 2?"

"Oh, yes, Sir!"

"All right, Nicky. Why don't you have your parents take you back to Coralville? I'll get in touch with the doctor and let him know Thunderbird 2 will be arriving within the next couple of hours."

"You mean it? I'll get to see you again?"

"No, not me, Nicky. I have to stay here and man Base, you know."

"Oh, right," Nicky replied reverently.

"I'll send Virgil and Gordon. How'll that be?"

"Oh!" The boy's face lit up. "That'll be fine!"

"Okay, Nicky, now you take care. We'll contact you on Christmas Day so you can watch us open your gifts. All right?"

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Mr. Tracy!"

Jeff chuckled as he closed the vid line. The boy was so excited; he hadn't the heart to tell him they already knew what their gifts were. Still, there would be some element of surprise, as they'd no idea what the marionettes looked like.

Virgil, Alan and Gordon walked into the Lounge.

"What's so funny, Father?" Alan asked.

"I just got off the line with Nicky."

"Really? Was it about those presents he's giving us?" Virgil asked.

"Sure was. Virgil, I want you and Gordon to head for Coralville Children's Hospital. I told Nicky you'd meet him there to pick up the gifts."

"F.A.B.!"

Virgil walked to the far wall of the Lounge and turned, resting his back against a floor-to-ceiling painting of a rocket ship. The picture upended, sending him sliding back into a long chute that would deposit him right into the pilot's chair of his beloved ship, Thunderbird 2.

Just outside the Lounge, Gordon entered the passenger elevator. It dropped him straight down, coming to rest in the hangar far to Thunderbird 2's right, elevated about ten feet above her cockpit. The elevator doors opened and the lift cage extended outward on a gantry until it was above the cockpit, then the chute lowered through the entry hatch and locked into place behind and to the left of Virgil, who was now fully dressed in his International Rescue uniform.

"I'll just be a minute," Gordon said, heading for the closet that housed one of each of the operatives' spare uniforms.

"Right. Starting engines now," Virgil replied, firing his baby up. "This oughtta be fun!" he yelled over his shoulder to his brother.

"Yeah, I can't wait to see these marionettes. What do you think they look like?"

"I don't know," Virgil said, easing Thunderbird 2 out of her hangar. "Living Puppets said Nicky was very specific when he was meeting with the designer. They destroyed all the design specs and no photographs were allowed. Nobody's been able to find out what the puppets actually look like."

"Yeah, and you know Nicky wasn't talking!"

"He's a good kid. It'll be nice to see him again and meet his new parents." Virgil pressed one of a plethora of squares on the flat keypad panel in front of him. "This is Thunderbird 2, ready for takeoff."

The great green freight ship taxied down the runway and came to rest as the platform beneath it angled it upward, nose pointing at the bright blue sky.

"You are cleared for takeoff. Get back soon, just in case, son."

"We will, Father."

Virgil pressed another button and Thunderbird 2's turbo jets roared to life, fire spewing out of her tail into the blast shield. Slowly, like a great, lumbering giant, she moved up the ramp until at last she was airborne. At 2,000 feet her boosters cut out, leaving her running smoothly on her atomic pile.

* * *

Nicky was beside himself as he waited none-too-patiently in the large yard outside Coralville Children's Hospital. At International Rescue's request, the doctor and nurse had drawn all the shades closed 'round the hospital so no one would see what was going on outside. Only Nicky, dressed in his honorary International Rescue uniform, and his parents were present, along with six colorfully wrapped two-foot tall rectangular packages and a few smaller items.

A high-pitched whine cut through the stillness of early evening. Nicky jumped up and down, breaking free from his folks and running forward as Thunderbird 2 appeared in the distance.

"They're here! They're here!" he shouted.

The three watched in awe as the great bird landed so softly you would never know it weighed several hundred tons. The hatch on the underside of its nose slid open and a small platform descended carrying two men in International Rescue uniforms.

Suddenly shy, Nicky backed up until he was standing right in front of the gifts. He watched as Virgil and Gordon approached, recognizing them right away, even though it had been almost a year to the day since he'd last laid eyes on them.

"Nicky!" Gordon smiled as they approached.

All shyness soon left the boy as he ran toward them, his broad smile threatening to crack his face in two. "Gordo! Virg!"

The brothers laughed at Nicky's use of their family nicknames.

"Look! It's our youngest member!" Gordon laughed, taking in the small uniform the youngster wore.

"How are you, sport?" Virgil asked, shaking Nicky's hand as the boy skidded to a halt in front of them.

"I'm great, Virg, just great!"

"Good to see you again, Nicky!"

"You too, Gordo! Hey, I want you to meet my folks. They're right over here!"

Nicky led them to the man and woman standing just behind the row of presents. Gordon and Virgil took in the six-foot-tall redheaded man and his five-foot-six black-haired wife. All parties were full of smiles as the adults shook hands.

"I'm Marvin Longfellow, and this is my wife Teresa."

"Very pleased to meet you," Virgil replied. "We're so glad Nicky has a family now. He's a very special kid."

"We couldn't agree more," Teresa replied. "We're very blessed to have him in our lives."

Nicky tugged at Gordon's sleeve, pulling him toward the pile of gifts. "Gordo, Virg, come here, come here! Here are your presents!"

"Oh, my," Virgil breathed dramatically. "Are all those for _us_?"

Nicky nodded, beaming as he watched the men's faces light up. "Yep! There's something for everybody, even Tin-Tin and Grandma! And Kyrano and Brains!"

Marvin and Teresa exchanged glances, wondering at all these names Nicky was throwing around. But they knew better than to inquire, quite content to allow Nicky and International Rescue to keep their secret between them.

"They'll be so happy, Nicky. It was very thoughtful of you, you know," Gordon said, kneeling so he was face-to-face with the nine-year-old.

"Well, it's like I told Mom and Dad," Nicky replied, suddenly serious. "I was so sad before you took me to your base. I didn't think I'd ever be happy. It was the greatest thrill of my life."

"We had a lot of fun too, Nicky," Virgil said as he knelt next to Gordon.

"I know it's not much, Virg, but I had to thank you. I just _had_ to."

"You know, you're far too grown-up for your age," Virgil replied softly, ruffling Nicky's hair. "We really appreciate it. No matter what's in those packages, Nicky, it's the thought that counts. Thank _you_."

"Yeah, Nick, thanks," Gordon said as the brothers rose to their feet. "We'd better get these loaded onto Thunderbird. Wanna help?"

The serious moment over, Nicky jumped up and down, laughing as he picked up two of the smaller packages. "Yes, yes, may I? Oh, may I?"

The adults laughed as Nicky helped Virgil and Gordon carry everything over to Thunderbird 2. They loaded the gifts onto the platform, and then returned to Nicky's parents.

"It was nice to meet you," Virgil said, extending his hand to them once again. "Take good care of this young man."

"We will, Sir. And thank you," Marvin replied.

"Yeah, nice to meet you," Gordon added as he shook their hands in turn. "And you, Nicky, you make sure you keep an eye out for danger."

"I will, Gordo!" Nicky said, standing at attention and saluting.

Gordon laughed as he headed back toward Thunderbird 2.

"Bye, sport!" Virgil said, shaking Nicky's hand.

Nicky gasped as he realized Virgil had left something behind in his hand. He looked down and found a small, flat four-inch square object with a vid screen at the top and two pad buttons, one red and one green, below it. He raced after Virgil, who had begun walking away.

"Virg! What's this?"

The chestnut-haired man turned and knelt in front of him. "This is our little secret," he said, his face quite serious. "If you're ever in trouble, you just push that green button. We'll answer."

"You mean it?" Nicky asked, his eyes filling with tears. "A direct line to you?"

Virgil nodded. "And the red button is how you disconnect. Now, you keep this close to you always, and don't let anyone else touch it. Okay?"

Nicky nodded, one tear escaping his eye. "Gee, thanks, Virgil."

Using his thumb, Virgil wiped the tear from Nicky's cheek. "Anytime, little man. Any time. Now you be a good fella, like the member of International Rescue that you are."

"I will. I promise I will."

Virgil smiled and rose to his feet. "Bye, Nicky."

"Goodbye."

Teresa and Marvin didn't see their son pocket the communicator as they walked up to join him. Within minutes, Thunderbird 2's VTOL rockets fired and the giant craft rose into the air. The red lights on each wingtip flashed in rapid succession and Nicky and his parents smiled and waved. Before they knew it, the turbo jets roared to life and Thunderbird 2 was gone.

"What'd he give you, son?"

"Oh, nothing, Dad. Just something to remember them by," Nicky said softly, staring into the sky.

The adults smiled at one another before gently urging Nicky to follow them back to the hospital. Yes, their adopted son was definitely one special little boy.

* * *

Down in Thunderbird 2's nose sat ten neatly arranged Christmas gifts. As the great craft neared her homeport, one of the larger packages seemed to move. Something inside it shuddered, causing it to sway before toppling over. Then a strange sound emerged from it...a sort of hissing sound...before a high-pitched laugh rang out. The package shuddered once more. Then it was silent.

Virgil and Gordon chatted amiably; commenting on how good the little family had looked together, how happy Nicky had seemed and how thrilled they were to have seen him again.

They had no idea what they were taking home.


	3. Chapter 3

**_CHAPTER THREE_ **

Christmas Day arrived, bringing with it the delicious aroma of Northern pine, cinnamon and that indescribable mixture of scents that permeates a happy home during the holidays. Grandma, Kyrano and Tin-Tin busied themselves in the kitchen while Alan blasted off in Thunderbird 3 to fetch John. Jeff had decided that this Christmas, for the first time since International Rescue had begun operations, the _entire_ family would be home for the holidays. He'd instructed John to put the space station on auto-relay and come home. John couldn't wait.

Christmas dinner came and went. Fairly bursting at the seams from all the food they'd eaten, the entire household sat around the Lounge opening numerous gifts. Everyone was more than pleased with what they'd received, and it wasn't long before Jeff moved behind his desk.

"Okay, it's time to call Nicky. Alan, make sure everyone has the gifts he sent."

"Right, Father," Alan replied, doling out the packages Virgil and Gordon had brought back with them two days ago.

Jeff opened a line in John's portrait, relaying it through Thunderbird 5's space scanners and scrambling the signal so many times not even Brains, he thought, would've been able to decode it. He smiled as Nicky's young face, flushed with happiness, appeared before them.

"Mr. Tracy!"

"Hi, Nicky. Merry Christmas!"

The rest of the Tracy house erupted into variations on the greeting as Nicky looked 'round the room.

"Oh, everyone's there! Even John!"

"Yeah, I'm here this year. Hiya, Nicky!" John waved from his seat on the couch. Next to him sat Gordon and Grandma. A chair to their left contained Alan and Tin-Tin, sharing the same space as always, while Scott and Virgil rested on the settee in front of Jeff's desk. The patriarch moved out and took his present from Alan before seating himself in a chair between John and Kyrano.

"Hiya!" Nicky waved back.

"All right, then, Nicky, who do you want to open their gift first?" Jeff asked.

"I'd like Kyrano to open his first. He was so kind to help me put this uniform on after I arrived," Nicky replied, glancing down to the blue outfit he wore. "And he was always bringing me more egg nog!"

"Thank you very much, Mr. Nicky," Kyrano said, bowing as the others laughed softly. He slowly opened the wrapping paper with the same patience and care he displayed in all aspects of life. When at last he reached the box inside, he opened it and gasped quietly.

The others watched with anticipation as Kyrano pulled out a wooden base covered by a glass dome. Within the dome was a lone white rose, which seemed to hang suspended by nothing at all. Everyone ooh'd and aah'd as Kyrano pressed a button on the base and the rose petals slowly opened to reveal a small glass cherub nestled within.

Kyrano looked up to Nicky. "This is beautiful. How can I ever thank you?"

"Well, I told Mom you liked flowers, that you had lots of gardens, so she helped me pick it out. I'll tell her how much you like it!"

"I do. Thank you."

"Who's next?" Tin-Tin asked from her perch next to Alan.

"You are, Tin-Tin!" Nicky replied. "You took that picture of me with 'Santa', and I've kept it right next to my bed every second since. It's one of the best things I took away with me."

Tin-Tin smiled as she delicately undid the paper around her package. She opened the rather flat box and pulled out an 8" x 10" framed photograph. "Oh, Nicky, it's lovely! Are those your parents?"

"Yes, they are! Do you like it? It's not much, but I wanted to give you something like you gave me."

"It's wonderful, Nicky. I will keep it next to my bed as you do with your picture. Thank you."

"You're welcome. Okay, Grandma, you're next!"

Grandma smiled. "Oh, Nicky, you didn't have to get me anything at all. I can't tell you how much fun it was having a little boy around to fuss over!"

Everyone chuckled as Grandma began unwrapping her present.

"Well, I never had grandparents. And you were so nice to me, you even told me to call you Grandma. When I got back to Coralville, I felt like I had a real family at last, with a _real_ Grandma, just like I'd always dreamed about."

Ruth Tracy just smiled and shook her head as she came to a box about ten inches on each side. She opened it and exclaimed, "Oh! Look at this!"

Everyone's eyes were on Grandma as she pulled a white porcelain plate out of the box, followed by a stand to hold it. The plate was rimmed in gold and on the front was painted a large bunch of spring flowers. Inscribed in gold lettering were the words, 'Grandmas are life's most precious gift'. Tears came to Ruth's eyes as she smiled up at Nicky on the vid screen.

"Oh, Nicky, this is so beautiful. I will always treasure it. Thank you."

Nicky smiled. "You're welcome. Mom helped me pick that one out, too. Okay, Brains, you're next!"

The engineer blushed, fussing with the wrapping paper on his gift. He quickly opened the box contained within and his face turned even redder as he brought the contents out. He looked up at Nicky and said, "Thank you. Thank you very much."

"Well, Brains, when you told me you were an orphan like me, I didn't feel so different like I always did before. You did so many things with all the International Rescue equipment, and it made me believe I could be as special as you are even though I didn't have folks. My 2nd grade teacher gave me that plaque, but now that I have a family, I thought it might be better if you kept it."

"What is it, Brains?" Scott asked, straining to see.

Brains held it up, a smile upon his face. "I-It says, 'Orphans are Heaven's way o-of proving that angels really do e-exist'," he said.

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Tin-Tin said.

"Thank you, Nicky. This is very special coming from you."

"You're welcome, Brains."

"Well, Nicky, are we ever gonna get to open _our_ presents?" Alan asked.

"You always were impatient at Christmas," Virgil said as laughter rang 'round the room.

Nicky was positively jumping out of his skin. "Yes, Alan, all of the rest of you, open yours now!"

The men tore into their packages like little kids. They couldn't wait to see what these marionettes looked like! Alan's was the first out of the box. He whistled in surprise as Tin-Tin's hand came to her mouth and she said, "Oh!"

"Nicky, this-this is amazing! It looks almost _exactly_ like me!" Alan breathed, standing and uncoiling the strings from his marionette.

Similar gasps of amazement came from this one and that around the room as each of them brought their 1 1/2-foot likenesses out of the confines of their boxes.

Jeff held his puppet up to his face. "How on Earth...?"

"Nicky, how did you..."

"My God, this is unreal!"

"Would you look at that?"

"Well, I'll be."

Nicky watched as each male Tracy stared in wonder at the creations made possible by Living Puppets. He knew these marionettes had been the perfect idea, but was a little taken aback at the silence. You could've heard a pin drop as everyone gathered 'round to inspect the incredible little creations.

"Do you, uh, do you like them?"

"Nicky, how in the world did you get them to look so much like us?"

"Well, Mr. Tracy, I just...I remember you, that's all."

"You must have a photographic memory," Scott said. He started maneuvering the strings a little and jumped slightly when he inadvertently opened his puppet's eyes. "Even the eye color is right. This is uncanny."

"Nobody took any pictures, Mr. Tracy. I wouldn't let them, my Dad made them promise. Nobody except the ones who made them saw 'em, but they don't even know it's you. I didn't tell them who they looked like, I just said they were faces I made up."

"Well, Nicky, you outdid yourself. Even the uniforms...how did you manage that?" Virgil asked.

"Mom made them. She used the uniform you gave me as a pattern, and I told her what color to make the sashes."

Jeff shook his head, still unable to believe how much the puppets looked like them all. "Well, Nicky, these are by far the most unusual and remarkable gifts we've ever received. Thank you!"

"Yeah, Nicky, thanks a lot!" Gordon added as his brothers all chimed in.

"You're welcome!" Nicky turned his face away from the monitor for a moment, and everyone could hear a woman speaking to him. "Aw, I gotta go. We're going ice skating at the new rink they just built!"

"Well, you have fun," Jeff said. "And thank you again."

"I'm glad you like 'em, Mr. Tracy. Merry Christmas!"

"Merry Christmas to you, too, Nicky!"

Everyone waved and said "Merry Christmas!" as Nicky signed off.

"I didn't want to say anything in front of Nicky," Gordon said, eyeing his marionette warily, "but this thing is creepy!" He maneuvered the strings so the eyes would open and the lower jaw moved as though it were speaking. "I'd swear it looks alive."

"Yeah, it sure is strange seeing yourself like this," Alan agreed.

Scott looked around at everyone else's puppets as he said, "We gotta keep our eye on that kid. There's room in International Rescue for a mind like that."

"Agreed," Jeff replied. "Well, it's getting pretty late. This has been another very special Christmas, but what say we head off to bed?"

Several yawns accompanied the murmured sounds of agreement as each member of the villa headed for their bedroom, unique gifts from Nicky Longfellow in their hands.

* * *

Deep within the Malaysian jungle, Belah Gaat stood in front of the statue of Manay in the cavernous central room of his temple. He was clad in the same long, black robe used in the animation ceremony he'd performed on the International Rescue marionettes, the hood pulled over his head, hiding his face.

"Manay, jin punya kemilikan. I am calling you, my children. Wake. Wake!" He raised his arms up over his head as the hood fell back from his face, revealing glowing yellow eyes that permeated the darkness of the room. "Listen to me, your Master. Wake and search. Seek and find. Show me all that you see. Show me. Show me _now_!"

Belah closed his eyes and began to hum low and long, mentally contacting each of the demons housed within those ridiculous puppets that stupid boy had given to International Rescue. Fifteen long minutes passed until at last he was certain they were each under his control.

He walked to the altar upon which sat six brass bowls, with ugly faces like gargoyles carved around their bases. Within each bowl was a special mixture of Belah's own making, and the liquid had decidedly different tints...the first bowl on the left held a goldish-colored liquid; the second, blue; the third, yellow; the fourth, lavender; the fifth, orange; and the sixth was milky-white.

Placing his hands around the first bowl, the tone of his hum increased as he gave orders to each marionette's demon, stopping at each bowl in the same manner, never opening his eyes as instructions flowed from his mind to theirs.

"Find out where you are...find the Thunderbirds...find each member of International Rescue...send me all your information. Do not fail me, and you shall live. You shall live!"

* * *

Scott turned on his side, grumbling to himself about being awake at 2 o'clock in the morning yet again. His eyes wandered around his moonlit bedroom suite before coming to rest on the marionette of himself in full International Rescue uniform that rested in a seated position on the floor over in the corner of the room. For a split second, he could've sworn he saw it move...but chalked it up to being tired.

And so, Scott Tracy closed his eyes and relaxed, willing himself back to unconsciousness...not realizing that if he'd only kept his eyes open a few seconds more...he really _would_ have seen the puppet move.

Small Scott's eyes blinked open. It twisted its head, eyeballs moving from side to side as it scanned its surroundings. Believing its human counterpart to be asleep, it sneered as the hard Bondaglass that made up the skin of its face softened into something more pliable, and decidedly more human looking. Hands, too, ceased to be made of rubber and turned instead into real, working hands. It carefully untied the strings that seemed to be attached to every point on its body, then stood and stretched.

Glancing around one more time to ensure its movement was undetected, Small Scott made its way to the suite door. Leaping up to the key panel, it pushed the button that slid the door wide open. Looking first one way and then the other, the marionette dashed into the hallway, headed for the Lounge.

If any of the _real_ people in Tracy Villa had been awake, they'd have heard a soft laugh...an evil laugh...that would've made their hair stand on end.


	4. Chapter 4

_**CHAPTER FOUR**_

In a somewhat grotesque scene eerily reminiscent of real-life, six individuals had gathered in the Lounge of Tracy Villa. The room was dark, lit only by an evil red glow coming from six pairs of eyes. The faces _looked_ like they belonged to the members of famed International Rescue...only they were much, much smaller in size.

"We have our orders," the one that looked like Jeff Tracy hissed. "I will remain in this room to discover its secrets. We shall address one another by _their_ names, and must return to our resting places within two hours' time. When we have succeeded in this quest, the Master will grant us eternal life. Eternal life!"

The others nodded. Close looks at each face would indeed have shocked anyone who knew the Tracys, for although the marionettes' visages bore an uncanny resemblance to the men in question, the pure evil radiating from them did not.

Small Scott, whose voice mirrored the low hissing of Small Jeff, spoke next. "I am to locate Thunderbird 1 and relay all I see to the Master."

"And I shall locate Thunderbird 2," Small Virgil added.

"Thunderbird 3 is mine!" Small Alan grinned hideously.

"I will find Thunderbird 4 and ensure all her secrets are passed to the Master," Small Gordon said.

Small John looked toward the patio. "I am to seek out the location of this secret base. I shall begin outside."

"Then go!" Small Jeff ordered. They scattered to the winds, the only sound being the pitter-pattering of their miniature feet as they ran. Small Jeff grinned madly, rubbing his hands together. "I shall not fail you, Master. I shall not fail you!"

* * *

Gordon awoke slowly to find himself completely twisted up in his sheets. 'That's funny,' he thought. 'I don't usually toss and turn in my sleep.'

By the time he'd untangled himself, the delicious smells of breakfast had wafted through the house into his room, causing his stomach to grumble unceremoniously. He laughed as he headed for the shower.

He didn't notice that the little replica of himself wasn't _quite_ in the same position as he'd left it the night before...

* * *

Scott had been awake, showered and dressed by 6am...actually, quite late for him. He stood at the stove stirring scrambled eggs in a large frying pan. His mind wandered back to last night, and an involuntary shiver ran up his spine as he recalled the moment when he'd been sure his marionette had moved.

Scott sighed as he scooped the eggs out onto a platter. He told himself he was being ridiculous and should just forget about it. He heard someone enter the kitchen behind him. A sleepy "Mornin', Scott," told him that someone was Virgil.

"Hey, sleepyhead. Hungry?"

Virgil plopped into a chair at the kitchen table. "Yeah, actually, I am. What'cha got?"

"Eggs, sausage, toast."

"Mmm, my favorite."

Scott grinned as he deposited a full plate of food onto the table in front of his brother. "I know. Coffee?"

"Sure, thanks."

Scott poured the coffee, then added milk and two teaspoons of sugar, stirring three times. When he and the steaming mug reached Virgil, half his plate was empty. "You've got some appetite!" he commented, placing the mug to Virgil's right.

"Mmm...s'good..." Virgil mumbled through a mouthful of food.

Scott went back to his cooking, and was startled a few minutes later when Virgil's voice came from directly behind him. He turned, frowning at the look on his face as his brother spoke.

"Say, Scott..."

"What?"

"I, uh, well, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but..."

Scott lay the large wooden spoon down on the counter and turned to fully face him. "What is it?"

Virgil's eyes shifted. Whatever he was about to say was making him very uncomfortable. "It's, uh, it's the puppet."

"The puppet? What about it?"

"Well, I...I don't think it was...oh, never mind!"

As Virgil whirled around to leave, Scott grabbed his arm, effectively stopping him in mid-step. "Tell me."

"No, you'll think I'm nuts."

"Too late."

Virgil made a face, and then decided he may as well say what he'd started out to. "All right. I distinctly remember putting that thing in the chair to the left of my bed. I even arranged it so it looked comfortable."

"Aw, Virg, you've developed a soft spot for your little buddy."

"I'll show _you_ a soft spot, you pain in the-"

Scott held up his hands defensively, trying to hold in the laugh that wanted to escape. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. So you put it on the chair last night. So what?"

"Well, it wasn't there this morning."

"What? You mean it's missing?"

"No, no, nothing like that. When I woke up it was stretched out at the foot of my bed. It was just lying there with its eyes closed. It looked like it was sleeping."

"Virg, you're givin' me the creeps."

"I'm giving _me_ the creeps!" he replied, running a hand through his unkempt hair.

"Well, if it makes you feel any better, I was awake around two and could've sworn I saw my marionette move."

"You're kidding."

Scott shook his head. "But we both know puppets aren't alive, right?"

"Right."

"So there's got to be a logical explanation for what we both saw. I figure I was just tired and the shadows in my room were playing tricks on my eyes."

"And whaddya figure for me?"

Scott let his breath out slowly, racking his brain. "Well...you know, it was probably Gordo messin' around."

"Why would he be messin' around with my marionette?" Virgil asked, not buying it.

"I don't know. Why does he slide down the banisters at twenty-four years of age?"

Virgil thought for a moment before nodding. "You have a point."

"A point about what?" Jeff asked, rubbing the stubble on his chin as he wandered into the room.

"Oh, nothing, Father. Good morning."

"Morning, Virgil, Scott. Ah, coffee." Jeff approached the carafe and set about pouring himself a large mug...steaming, hot and black.

"Morning, Father. Want some eggs?"

"Virgil's favorite?"

"Yep."

"Why do I think that's the only thing you know how to cook?"

Virgil grinned as he exited the room. "Probably because it is."

Scott threw a hand towel at his brother's departing back as Jeff chuckled. "Sure, son, I'll have some."

Jeff seated himself at the table and waited until Scott brought over two full plates of food. He sat down across from Jeff and began scoffing away. He was almost done before he noticed that his father was just pushing the eggs around the plate with a fork.

"You okay, Dad?"

"Hm? Oh, yes, I was just wondering...were you at my desk last night?"

"At your desk?" Scott shook his head, frowning. "No. Why?"

"Oh, I'm sure it's nothing."

"No, really, what?"

"I'm usually very organized."

"Yeah, I know you are. I am, too. The Air Force did it to us."

Jeff smiled faintly before continuing. "This morning when I went out there to grab my coffee mug, I noticed a few papers were scattered on top of the desk."

"You never leave papers out at night."

"I know. That's my point."

"Well, maybe one of the others was out there looking for something."

Jeff sighed, scooping a forkful of now-cold eggs into his mouth. When he'd finished chewing, he said, "You're probably right."

Scott leaned back in the chair, his mind beginning to work. First he thought he saw his marionette move. Then Virgil told him about how _his_ puppet wasn't where he'd left it. And now, his father's papers... He came to his feet, deciding he needed to talk to Gordon.

* * *

Alan stretched himself awake, grimacing as rays of sunlight danced into his large blue eyes. He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, intending to bury himself deep beneath his blankets and go right back to sleep.

But then he got a funny feeling...he didn't know exactly what it was, but it sent little prickles up his back and into his neck, making the baby hairs stand on end. He shot upright to his knees, looking wildly about his rooms, trying to figure out why it was he felt he was being watched.

As he scanned the area, he realized he didn't see his marionette anywhere. "That's odd," he said aloud. "I'm sure I put it on my dresser."

Climbing off the bed, Alan walked out into the Sitting Room. He looked around cautiously, wondering why he felt so odd. Seeing nothing out of place, he headed back into his bedroom and his heart almost stopped beating.

For there, sitting in the middle of the dresser, was none other than his marionette.

* * *

Belah was exhausted. He'd been awake for hours mentally processing everything his demons had transmitted to him telepathically. They had been unsuccessful in locating any of the Thunderbird craft, but he had found perhaps the most important piece of information of all from one of them, who had rifled through a desk full of papers. He'd found that the man in charge of International Rescue was none other than former astronaut Jeff Tracy.

His lips curled into an evil grin as that one piece of knowledge permeated his being. He rose from his chair and laughed, shaking his head. Even if his "children" didn't find anything more, knowing that Jeff Tracy was the leader...well, there were many, many ways in which Belah could use that to his advantage.

Many, _many_ ways...


	5. Chapter 5

**_CHAPTER FIVE_ **

Scott discovered that Gordon hadn't been doing anything but sleeping the night before, so that ruled out the possibility of him having moved everyone's marionettes around just to mess with their heads. Upon closer investigation, Gordon realized his own puppet was slightly askew, and questioned Scott about what it might all mean. Before Scott could even think of something to say, Alan came bursting into the Lounge.

"Scott! Gordon!"

"What? What is it?" Scott asked, alarmed.

"My puppet!"

Gordon exchanged glances with Scott as Virgil entered the room. "What about it?"

"When I woke up, it wasn't there, I left it on my dresser, but it wasn't there so I went looking for it and I found it only it was back on the dresser again, I swear, I'm _not_ going crazy, you guys have to believe me!"

"Whoa, little brother, slow down," Virgil said as he approached them. "What's this all about?"

"It seems we have some very strange marionettes on our hands," Scott replied grimly. "I honestly can't tell you what's going on."

"But something definitely is," Gordon added before relaying his own findings. Scott and Virgil filled them in on what had occurred with their marionettes as well, and then Scott told them what their father had said about the papers on his desk.

"What about John?" Alan asked, having calmed somewhat after his one-breath outburst.

"You know, I haven't seen him all morning," Virgil mused.

"Alan, Gordon, see if you can locate John. Virg, you and I need to talk to Father."

"Right," they replied in unison.

* * *

Still a bit shaken from his experience, Alan allowed Gordon to lead the way down the hall to John's bedroom. As they approached the door, the brothers looked uneasily at one another. Gordon pressed the button on the entry panel that would signal the room's occupant someone was outside.

There was no response. Not even via the panel com. Exchanging frowns, Gordon chimed again. Still nothing.

"Gordo, I don't like this," Alan said worriedly.

"He _could_ be somewhere else on the island," Gordon supplied, not really believing his own statement. "I don't have his code, do you?"

"No," Alan replied. It was times like these he wished they didn't have secret access codes that locked their personal suites.

"I know, the GPS in his watch. It'll tell us where he is."

"Yeah. If he's wearing it."

Gordon cocked his head, as though challenging his brother to come up with a better solution.

Alan sighed. "Okay. Let's go."

* * *

"There you are, Father," Scott said as he and Virgil entered Brains' laboratory.

"Yes, Brains and I are going over the itinerary for his trip to Tracy Engineering today." He turned to them and alarm bells sounded in his head when he noticed the looks on their faces. "Scott? Virgil? What is it?"

"Well, Father, it's a strange one. We both thought we were crazy, but I don't think we are."

Brains looked suddenly interested. "What's going on, Scott?"

"You know how you found those papers scattered on your desk this morning?"

"Yes," Jeff nodded, "what of it?"

"Were you ever able to find out why they were like that?"

"No, but I really hadn't given it much thought after I filed them away. Why?"

Virgil looked ill at ease as Scott continued. "Last night around 2am, I thought I saw my marionette move. I just figured it was my imagination. But Virgil put _his_ marionette in the bedside chair before turning in last night. When he woke up, it was lying across the foot of the bed."

"Sounds like Gordon u-up to one of his tricks," Brains commented.

"No," Scott replied, shaking his head. "I already asked. He swears he had nothing to do with it. Then he discovered that his puppet wasn't quite the way he'd left it, either. And Alan was real shook up. He couldn't find _his_ marionette when he woke up this morning, so he went looking for it. When he got back to his bedroom, it was sitting there on his dresser."

"I don't get it. What are you trying to tell me?"

Virgil spoke up. "I don't know, Father, but it's strange how we've all had something odd happen with those marionettes."

Just then, Jeff's wrist communicator beeped. He raised his arm and looked into it. "Yes, Gordon, what is it?"

"Father, we can't get John to answer his bedroom door. The GPS says his watch is in there, but no matter how much we chime and knock, he won't respond."

"I sent them looking for John after we realized nobody had seen him this morning," Scott explained.

"Just because his watch is there doesn't necessarily mean _he_ is," Virgil offered.

Scott gave Virgil a look. He knew Virgil was just trying to be the voice of reason, but they all knew that the only time any of them didn't wear their wrist communicators was when they were in the shower. Chances were, if John's watch was in his room, so was he...most likely attached to it. Jeff had come to the same conclusion as his eldest son. "All right, I'll be there in a minute to key in the override. Brains, you'd better leave soon so you're not late for your appointment with Dr. Levin."

"Yes, Sir," Brains replied, rising to his feet.

"Virgil, Scott, let's go."

They followed Jeff out of the lab, and Brains sighed. He was really looking forward to his meeting with Dr. Levin at Tracy Engineering, but was intrigued by what the brothers had said. As his mind sifted through various possible explanations, his brow furrowed, a feeling of dread almost overwhelming him.

It couldn't be. Could it?

* * *

Jeff, Virgil and Scott reached the door to John's suite rather quickly. Alan and Gordon stood aside as Jeff entered the override command that would open the door. It slid open with a swish, and Jeff entered first. Seeing nothing amiss in the Sitting Room, he motioned for the rest of the group to join him.

They entered John's bedroom, where they were greeted by the sight of him laying slanted on the bed, fully-clothed in the outfit he'd worn on Christmas Day and looking even paler than his normal complexion.

"John!" Alan cried, rushing to the foot of the bed, where John's head hung slightly over the corner end. He reached down and checked for a pulse. Even though he found one, his face became white as a ghost. "Dad..."

By now, Jeff and the others had joined him. "What?"

"He's hurt."

They all looked at where Alan was pointing. There was dried blood on the top right of John's forehead and hair, and it was only then they all noticed the dark blood stain on the comforter beneath him.

Jeff instantly moved into Command Mode. "Gordon, get the stretcher. Scott, get the Sick Room ready. Virgil, find Tin-Tin. Alan, make sure Brains has everything he needs and gets off the ground in Ladybird."

The others scattered, but Alan remained, staring down at his brother's prone form. "Dad, I want to stay with John."

"Go, Alan. Now."

Alan knew you didn't argue with _that_ voice, so he took one last look at John before heading out the door. Jeff grasped John's wrist gingerly and breathed a sigh of relief when he felt the strong pulse for himself. Then he moved to inspect the bloody area and discovered a gash running from just above the hairline up toward the top middle of his head. Thankfully it didn't seem too deep, but Jeff was disconcerted by how much the blood had dried.

Gordon returned with the stretcher and helped his father lift John onto it. "Get him to the Sick Room quickly, Gordon. He's been laying here for hours. Contact me at my desk as soon as Tin-Tin has a diagnosis."

"Right, Father," Gordon replied, rushing off with John and the hover stretcher, fast as he dared.

Jeff headed for the Lounge. There was a phone call he needed to make.

* * *

Once Alan conveyed how they'd found John, Brains had no intention of leaving the island. From the cockpit of Ladybird, he activated his wrist com as Alan hotfooted it back to the villa.

"Mr. Tracy, this is Brains."

In response, he received a signal indicating the older man wasn't able to speak to him at that moment. Frustrated, Brains hopped out of the plane and was soon right on Alan's heels.

* * *

"That's right, Mr. Fields. I'm asking you if anything out of the ordinary happened to those marionettes prior to them being delivered to the Longfellows." Jeff's face was like a thundercloud, but Jay Fields, puppet designer for Living Puppets, could not see him, as he'd chosen to contact him using sound only.

"I-I guess you could say there was _one_ strange thing."

"Well?" Jeff asked impatiently. "What is it?"

"The, uh, the marionettes actually disappeared for just over a week."

"What do you mean, disappeared?"

Jeff didn't notice Brains' arrival in the Lounge. He'd sprinted all the way from the runway, but wasn't even winded. When he saw the elder Tracy on the vidphone, he turned and ran for the Sick Room.

"Well, Sir, one morning a couple weeks before Christmas, we went to get the marionettes for packaging, but they were gone. They reappeared on the twenty-third."

The thundercloud on Jeff's face turned into an all out storm front. "Do you have any idea who took them?"

"No, we don't. Our security systems never showed a breach and they didn't seem any the worse for wear, so we just told the Longfellows there'd been a production delay."

"So there's nothing else you can tell me?"

"I'm afraid not, Sir. I'm sorry. A-Are you really from International Rescue?"

"Yes, Mr. Fields, I am. And I wish you'd told someone about the disappearance before now."

"Why? What's happened?"

"I'm not sure, but there's something funny about them."

"Funny?"

"Never mind. Thank you for your help." Foregoing any niceties, Jeff closed the channel and tapped one finger on his desk before punching another number into the vidphone panel.

"Yes, hello?" a man's voice answered. Again, Jeff had selected sound only.

"Hello, Marvin Longfellow?"

"Speaking."

"Mr. Longfellow, this is International Rescue calling."

"Oh, hello, there. I'm sorry, but Nicky's not here right now. He's gone after-Christmas shopping with Teresa."

"Well, it wasn't Nicky I was calling for, Mr. Longfellow. I actually wanted to speak with _you_."

There was a moment's hesitation before Marvin spoke. "Yes, what can I do for you?"

"Mr. Longfellow, were you aware that the marionettes given to us by your son had been stolen from Living Puppets and then returned just before Christmas?"

By the tone of Marvin's voice, Jeff knew the next words he spoke were truth. "Oh, my, no. No, we didn't know that at all!"

"Mm, I thought not. But I had to be certain, you understand."

"No, I don't understand, really. Has something happened involving the marionettes?"

"All I can tell you is that there's something odd about them. We're going to try and figure out what it is, but first I had to know whether or not you knew anything about it."

Marvin was obviously confused. "I'm sorry, I don't. I apologize very much, they were just supposed to be gifts from Nicky to thank you."

"I know, Mr. Longfellow. I'd appreciate you not troubling Nicky about this, especially since we don't have a lot to go on."

"I agree. Please let me know if there's anything else we can do."

"I will. And thanks." Jeff cut the line just as his wrist com beeped. "This is Jeff Tracy." A face appeared on the small vid screen. "Brains? You don't look like you're in Ladybird."

"No, I-I'm not, Mr. Tracy. I'm with John and the others."

Jeff rose to his feet and headed for the Sick Room. "I told Alan to make sure you got off the ground. I _need_ you at Tracy Engineering!"

"I know, Mr. Tracy. I'm certain Dr. Levin won't mind the short delay." He turned as the man he'd been speaking to entered the room. "Oh, Mr. Tracy, you're here."

"Yeah, so are you," Jeff replied, his voice stern. But he couldn't really fault Brains for having remained to look over John, and was secretly glad he had. "What have you come up with?"

"He was struck with a blunt object that caused a two-and-one-quarter inch gash on his head, one-sixteenth of an inch deep. His life signs are good, but he's still unconscious from the blow."

"Recovery?"

"Complete, near as I can tell."

"Thank you, Brains," Jeff said, turning away from the engineer. "You can go now."

Virgil gave Brains a slight smile, which Brains returned. He knew full well they were all grateful for his presence to assess John's injuries, in spite of Jeff Tracy's apparent gruffness.

"Yes, Sir, I'm on my way."

As Brains left the room, Jeff watched Tin-Tin working to make John as comfortable as she could, cleaning and bandaging his wound before tucking him under the sheets.

"Alan, as soon as John comes to, find out what happened. Scott, Virgil, I want you to round up those marionettes. Gordon, get something to put them in, something they can't get out of."

Alan did a double take at his father. "Something they can't get _out_ of?" he asked.

But Jeff didn't reply, just turned on heel and left the room.

"What'd he mean by that?" Gordon asked.

Scott shrugged. "I don't know, but we'd better get to it."

What Scott didn't tell his brothers was that he _did_ have an idea what his father had meant. And that idea sent shivers down his spine.

"Scott?" Virgil asked as they headed for his room. "What is it?"

Without looking at him, Scott replied, "If it's what I think it is, you don't wanna know."


	6. Chapter 6

_**CHAPTER SIX**_

As he sifted through the demons' mental pictures of each person in the house he now knew existed on an island in the Pacific Ocean, Belah Gaat recognized Jeff Tracy immediately, and surmised that the rest of the young men were his five sons, who had disappeared from public life around the same time the elder Tracy had. Belah grinned. Now he knew why.

There were two women living in the home as well, and he saw a picture of his half-brother Kyrano on one of the women's bedside tables, so he imagined the girl must be related to him somehow. Quite by accident, the marionette that looked like John Tracy had stumbled upon yet another man sleeping in a room set apart from the others. Belah concentrated, for he was almost certain he knew the man. Recognition dawned on his face as he snapped his mind back to the present.

Now Belah knew what he needed to know. International Rescue was none other than the Tracy family. Tracy Corporation had numerous companies under its umbrella, many of which were scientific in nature. Belah had a handful of spies scattered throughout most of those companies for purposes of stealing technological secrets. But now, now those spies would be even more useful to him.

He immediately set about contacting each of them and giving them specific instructions. Yes, he was _certain_ he knew the man he'd just seen in his mind. Knew him from long ago...

* * *

It was the year 2020. Belah Gaat had been working for years to increase his wealth in whatever despicable way he could. After his last four schemes in a row had failed, however, he decided his best bet for acquiring the technology he desired was to find the smartest person in the world and use his special powers to "convince" them to do his bidding.

After several months of searching, he had come across a vid lecture given by an eighteen-year old who didn't look like much, but sounded like he had the knowledge Belah sought. His research told him this man was, by all accounts, a certified genius, and that he had several degrees to his name, including two doctorates. He excelled in a variety of fields, with thermodynamics and trigonometry seemingly his favorites.

It took Belah some time, but he eventually found out the teen would be giving a lecture on Patgora's Theory of Absolute Zero, a new idea that had recently sprung up in the scientific community. Belah had no interest in the lecture itself, only in the man presenting it. On November 19, 2020, Belah donned a ginger-haired mask, dressed in a smart black business suit, and headed for the University of Cincinnati in the United States.

He arrived and found himself in the company of many faces he recognized from his years of sabotage and spying. At precisely four o'clock in the afternoon, Belah took a seat in the front row of the theater as a tall, lanky young man appeared on stage. He wasn't much to look at, to be sure: his short, brown hair was cut rather unattractively, and large horn-rimmed glasses sat upon his small nose. He was dressed in a dark blue pantsuit that looked like it went out of style ten years before.

He was nervous, and didn't even bother to introduce himself to the audience before beginning the lecture. He stuttered terribly, something which annoyed Belah greatly. Seeing as how he didn't care about the material, however, he concentrated instead on his plans for the young scientist. For, stutter or no, Belah knew this was the man he needed. His brain may have been brilliant beyond belief, but Belah could sense his mind was weak when it came to more...supernatural considerations. He would be easy to control. So easy.

And once Belah had control of him, the possibilities were endless. He would have someone creating new inventions for him, some of which, he knew, would be years ahead of their time. He'd done his homework on the man's ideas and was duly impressed. His theories were often scoffed at by the more tried-and-true members of the scientific community, but Belah saw the potential in them. There was no doubt in his mind: by this time tomorrow, Hiram K. Hackenbacker would be his.

_

* * *

December 26, 2027 (present day)_

Alan's eyes snapped to the bed as John stirred for the first time since he'd been found. "John? You with me?"

He groaned, automatically bringing a hand to his head. "Did you get the license plate on that truck?"

Alan smiled as he buzzed the Lounge. "Father, send Tin-Tin in here. John's waking up."

"She's on her way."

"Oh, what happened?" John moaned, wincing as he touched the now-cleaned and closed gash on his head.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Tin-Tin arrived and, after greeting John warmly, began checking his vitals.

"Ah, lemme think a minute."

Alan nodded and waited patiently. He could almost _see_ John's mind working through the events of Christmas night, trying to sort everything out. He knew from personal experience what a good knock on the head could do to you. It was always like trying to cut through a dense fog, and it took time.

Finally, Tin-Tin pronounced him healthy and headed for the Lounge to report as much to the rest of the family. John sighed deeply as the memories came flooding back.

_

* * *

The night before..._

John walked into his Sitting Room and the door swished gently closed behind him. He headed for the patio, taking his little marionette with him.

"Well, little guy, you're sure a disturbing thing to have around. Kinda weird seeing yourself as a doll on strings."

He held the puppet at arm's length, twitching a string here and there. An arm moved, a leg moved, eyes blinked, the mouth opened and shut. He frowned at its face, the resemblance was uncanny.

"That kid has some memory. You look just like me. I think I'm putting you in the closet."

There was no way John Tracy was going to have that little puppet staring at him all night while he tried to sleep. So he opened the closet nearest the head of his bed and laid it out on the top shelf.

"There ya go. Nice and comfy."

As the door slid closed, he gave an involuntary shiver. Something about that marionette made his skin crawl, but he just figured it was the fact that it looked so much like him. He turned to head back around the end of the bed, intent on taking a shower before going to bed. But a noise behind him caught his attention and he stopped dead in his tracks.

"What the heck?"

It was coming from inside the closet. He jumped as it sounded like something fell. Narrowing his eyes, John turned and approached the closet door again. He reached out to touch the button that would open it, but hesitated, his hand suspended in mid-air. Something told him _not_ to open the door...but, he reasoned, that was silly. There was nothing in his closet. Gads, if only Gordon could hear his thoughts now...he'd have a field day! _John's afraid of monsters in the closet!_ he'd chortle.

That thought pushed his hand the rest of the way to the button. As the door slid open, there was a whirlwind of blue, yellow and lavender as something came flying at him.

"AAAAAAAAAA!"

* * *

"It was the marionette?" Alan asked, aghast. "It _attacked_ you?"

"Well, I can't be sure, but best I can figure it did, yeah. I don't know what else it could've been."

"All right. I need to check in with Dad, he'll want to know this. He's had Scott and Virgil round up all the marionettes. Something very weird is going on here."

"Weird? How?"

"You mean, other than you being attacked by an 18-inch doll?"

John snorted. "Yeah, other than that."

Alan briefly relayed the other experiences they'd had with the puppets before excusing himself and heading for the Lounge. John lay back in bed, his head slowly ceasing to throb as the ASA Tin-Tin had given him began to take effect.

"Living Puppets," John said softly as he drifted back to sleep. "Boy, they weren't kidding."

* * *

"You're certain you can't find it anywhere?"

"No, Dad, we've looked all over the place," Scott replied.

"Yeah, I even searched the Roundhouse," Gordon added.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Jeff said, eyeing the large olive green object sitting in the middle of the Lounge.

The box was made of Formula C30/1, the same material that comprised the Mole's drill bit. It measured four feet by four feet square. Jeff, Kyrano, Grandma and the boys had located all marionettes and sealed them in the container. All except John's, and Jeff feared the worst.

"It must be with one of the Thunderbirds. We'll search in teams. Ah, Alan, good. Listen, we've rounded up all the marionettes. The only one we can't find is the one that looks like John. Have you gotten anything from him about what happened?"

"Yes, Father. His marionette attacked him," Alan reported, walking up to the desk.

"It _what_?" Virgil asked incredulously.

"Oh, my," Grandma breathed.

"He put it in the closet. He heard noise coming from inside and decided to investigate. When he opened the door, it just came flying at him. He felt something hit his head and that's the last thing he remembers."

"That's it. We've _got_ to find that last marionette and destroy them all."

"But what's happening, Father?" Gordon asked. "They can't _possibly_ be alive. They're puppets!"

"Kyrano?" Jeff said, nodding to his trusted friend, who'd been standing on the fringes of the group.

The Malaysian man bowed slightly as all eyes turned to him. "I once told Mr. Tracy a story. It is a legend from my country. Long ago, many years before my birth, an evil man with dark powers came to my village. He brought with him five dolls. These dolls began coming to life in the night. They killed many before it was realized who was responsible. The evil man was driven from the village and the dolls were burned to ashes. It was the only way the demons within them could be destroyed."

"Demons?" Grandma said, her forehead creasing into a frown. "You can't be serious."

"I knew it!" Scott said. "I've heard you tell that story before, Kyrano. I just didn't want to believe it."

"So this is the thing you said I wouldn't wanna know?" Virgil asked.

"Yeah."

"You were right."

"I don't know, Father" Gordon said, staring at the metal box. "You really think there is such a thing as demons? And that they're inhabiting the marionettes Nicky gave us?"

"How else do you explain John's puppet attacking him?" Jeff asked. "Besides which, it doesn't matter what the problem actually _is_, what matters is that one of those things is loose on the International Rescue base. Whoever it is that sent them here may have much more information right now than we want them to have. We've _got_ to find that sixth marionette and destroy it, along with the others."

"What's the action, Father?"

"Scott, you and Alan check Thunderbird 1 Launch Bay and Hangar. Virgil, you and Gordon take Thunderbird 2 hangar. Kyrano, you and I will check Thunderbird 3 silo. Mother, you and Tin-Tin keep watch over John. I will help you inspect the Sick Room inch-by-inch. When I'm satisfied it's safe, I want you to lock the door and stay put until we give the all-clear. If that thing attacked John once, there's no telling whether or not it may try again."

Murmurs and nods of agreement scattered throughout the room. Everyone headed off to begin their assigned duties, but stopped when Jeff spoke again.

"Arm yourselves. We don't know for sure what we're up against. I'm not about to lose a family member because of an innocent Christmas gift."

* * *

It was dark and quiet inside Thunderbird 3. Suddenly the Control Panel in its cockpit lit up like a Christmas tree. In a sick recreation of real life, someone who looked like John Tracy sat in the pilot's chair...except _this_ John Tracy was only 1-1/2 feet tall.

The marionette hissed and cackled with glee as it opened a telepathic channel to its master. It wanted to live again, to be granted eternal life. Surely the master would be most pleased if it not only showed the magnificent Thunderbird to him...

...but _brought_ it to him as well.


	7. Chapter 7

**_CHAPTER SEVEN_ **

Brains sighed. He was halfway to Japan, and his thoughts had grown increasingly dark as the journey progressed. He'd heard many interesting tales from Kyrano over time, and one particular story stuck out in his mind. The one he'd heard him telling Scott one night about a year ago, of the dolls who had come to life and killed many people in his village. Brains had never been one to altogether _believe_ in the supernatural, but he'd always known better than to completely discount it as well.

Sometimes he could feel things, things that seemed to pull at him from nowhere. Sometimes he could hear things, things that made no sense within the time and space he inhabited. He'd fallen back on assuming it was his brilliant mind talking to itself, making leaps that others wouldn't normally make. But now, as he contemplated what he'd heard from the Tracy boys, he began to wonder if such things as demons were truly possible. And if so, could they be at the root of the strange goings-on at the villa?

The sense of dread he felt was overpowering. He had a very bad feeling, but couldn't put his finger on exactly what was at the root of it. The only other time he'd ever felt like this had been seven years before...

* * *

It was November 19, 2020. Brains had spent the day preparing his lecture on Patgora's Theory of Absolute Zero. He didn't particularly enjoy lectures, but he was certain Patgora had hit upon something, and his research and experiments only confirmed his suspicions. It was during this time of research that he'd become somewhat friendly with an older professor at the University of Cincinnati who, surprisingly enough, felt there was credence to the theory and asked Brains to give a short lecture about it to a group of scientists from around the United States.

At first, Brains had declined. He hated groups of people. Hated them with a passion. But Professor Blakely had made it quite clear that the scientific community was not accepting of Patgora's ideas, and only one who truly believed would be able to get them to understand. Brains finally agreed.

He'd come up against the brick wall of old-way thinking far too many times already. People weren't willing to accept things they couldn't understand...especially scientists. They didn't just want hard facts and figures to back theories up, they wanted to know precisely, step-by-step, how the theory had been contrived in the first place. And Brains always had difficulty coming up with explanations for that part of it. It wasn't that he was trying to be secretive, he just didn't really know how it was his mind was able to jump from something "known" and "accepted" to something that was leaps and bounds beyond any previous concept.

It was for these reasons that Brains found himself, at the tender age of eighteen (or so he figured), standing backstage at a theater in the heart of the UC campus. He checked his watch for the umpteenth time and realized it was precisely four o'clock. Clutching note cards in his hand, more for security than because he actually needed them, Brains took a deep breath and walked out onto stage.

As the lecture progressed, Brains kept wishing he could disappear in a poof of smoke. He was nervous, and when he was nervous, he stuttered terribly. He hated that part of himself. He knew what he was talking about, he knew it like the back of his hand.

But it was the large crowd of mostly men in the auditorium that forced him to succumb to his old defense mechanism. He could always hide behind his stammer when he was younger. People left him alone because it was so difficult to hear him try and get through a sentence. Eventually he began doing it on purpose, and it just became a natural part of the way he spoke.

But at times like this, it was downright embarrassing. He could tell he'd lost some of the listeners, and several of them even got up and left. But he continued on, including Patgora's original ideas with his own that he'd come up with along the way.

By the time he finished, he was sweating and very uncomfortable. He wanted nothing more than to escape back to his hotel room, jump into the shower, and forget he'd ever been at the University of Cincinnati. He wrapped up the lecture to a smattering of applause, and then descended the steps that led from the stage to the floor. A few men approached him and he found himself beginning to relax a little as they asked questions.

When the last of the questioners finally took his leave, the hairs on the back of Brains' neck stood on end...he could feel someone standing behind him. He turned to find a man with ginger-colored hair and a matching mustache, dressed in a smart black business suit. Something about this man made him uneasy.

"Hello," a deep voice greeted. Brains thought he detected the hint of an accent, but couldn't place its origins.

"Uh, h-hello," he replied, standing his ground.

"You are Hiram Hackenbacker, are you not?"

"Y-Yes." Brains didn't know what it was, but every instinct told him to turn and run...just run...as fast and as far as he could. He felt something like electricity flash over his skin, giving him goose bumps.

"I'm very pleased to meet you," the man said, walking nearer.

"Uh..." Brains took a step backward. "Who...who are you?"

"Oh, that is not important, my friend." He was now only about a foot away. Brains froze. Fear welled up in him as he looked into the sunken eyes...eyes that didn't quite seem to match the face they bored out of.

"I-I-"

Suddenly the man's eyes began to glow. He didn't say a word, just stared into Brains' eyes as he came to stand directly in front of him.

"What...what's happening?" Brains squeaked. His mind was a complete jumble. He couldn't make heads or tails of his surroundings. He still felt something pulling at him, urging him to run, but for the life of him he couldn't remember why it was important to do so.

"Come with me," the voice ordered. It was now heavy with an accent Brains' fragmented mind couldn't even begin to recognize. He found that he was suddenly walking side-by-side with the stranger. A permanent fog had settled over him, forcing most conscious thought away. His movements were automatic, almost robotic in nature.

"You will be valuable to me, Mr. Hackenbacker," the man whispered in his ear.

His breath sent shivers up Brains' spine. A fleeting thought screamed at him to run, but he couldn't make himself stop. He couldn't keep from walking along with this man as though it were the most natural thing in the world to be doing.

Suddenly a loud noise pierced the night, like the sound of a firecracker being set off. Startled, the man's attention wavered as he turned to locate the source of the disturbance. In that split-second, Brains managed to come back to himself and feel the fear hit him full-force. He gasped and jumped back, his lower lip quivering. He'd seen something...something dreadful...something within that man's mind...and it froze his heart in terror.

The man turned back to face him, and his dark eyes suddenly lit up again. Brains squeezed his own eyelids shut, shaking his head. "No," he whined like a frightened puppy. "No."

"Open your eyes, you fool! You are powerless to resist me!"

Brains' eyes snapped open, his face contorted in horror at the images now burned into his brain. "NO!" he shouted, then turned heel and ran back toward the auditorium.

"Come back here!"

"Hey!" called a voice from the distance. Brains didn't know who it was, he couldn't stop, he had to keep running, he had to get away from that horrible, horrible creature. He had no idea what was happening as he heard raised voices fading behind him. He reached the auditorium door and banged it open, racing down the long central walkway and leaping up onto the stage in a single bound.

When he reached the curtains, he fumbled his way through their velvet folds until he found the opening that would allow him to hide behind them. Closing his eyes against the images, he waited in silence until his ragged breathing came under control. Then, with a trembling hand, he pulled the curtain apart ever so slightly. Scanning the huge room in front of him, he couldn't detect anyone near...but still...that man...even if he _were_ there, Brains doubted he'd realize it so easily.

He backed away from the curtain until he stumbled into the theater wall. Still shaking with fright, he sank down to the floor and tucked his knees into his chest, wrapping his arms around his legs, hugging himself, protecting himself as best he could. Resting his forehead on his knees, he finally allowed the tears to fall as his thoughts turned to the kind Cambridge professor who'd looked after him for the last six years.

He realized, almost too late, that the Professor had been right. Brains was his own worst enemy. His mind was so many years ahead of his time...in the wrong hands, it could be used as a weapon. Tonight, he'd had a brush with disaster. He didn't know who that man was, but the images of dark shadows and golden statues, fire licking ceilings of a cavernous room, evil deeds, robes, chanting...whoever he was, Brains was terrified of running into him again. He needed help. He needed protection.

But who on Earth could protect him from evil such as that?

_

* * *

December 26, 2027 (present day)_

"You go on up through the entry tunnel, Kyrano. I'll take the platform elevator to the nose hatch. Stay on your toes."

"Yes, Mr. Tracy," Kyrano replied. He reseated himself on the settee, which they had ridden down from the Lounge and through the long tunnel leading from the villa to Thunderbird 3's launch bay.

He gripped the machine pistol in his hand rather uncomfortably as the settee rose into the tail of Thunderbird 3. He did not like violence, and especially did not condone the use of man-made weapons of destruction such as this. But if his suspicions were accurate, if the marionettes truly _had_ been possessed by demons, Kyrano would do whatever it took to protect the man who had protected _him_ for so long.

Jeff hopped on board the platform elevator and punched in a few commands. It rose 284 feet into the air, stopping just shy of Thunderbird 3's pointed tip. Keying in the unlock sequence, he raised his gun and waited expectantly as the hatch slid open.

Time stood still for Jeff Tracy as something leapt from the hatch, screaming in a pitch that pierced Jeff's skull like a sword. As he reeled from the shock, it threw itself into his body, catching him off-balance as it grabbed his collar and spun him around. He felt himself tumble forward over the platform rail. The gun flew from his hand as he flailed for purchase, finding nothing at all he could grab onto...until his hand closed around cold metal.

Jeff dimly registered the faint clatter of the gun as it hit the concrete floor over 280 feet below. His hand gripped the edge of the platform, his body jerking to a stop. He couldn't help crying out in agony as the inertia dislocated his shoulder.

Stars exploded behind his eyes as he swung helplessly from the platform, each movement blinding him as his body protested the abuse. He tried desperately to grasp the platform with his other hand, but the one time he reached it, his fingers slipped from the rounded edge. He could feel the other hand losing its grip as his mind worked feverishly, trying to come up with a way out of this...a way to cheat certain death. He felt his fingers slipping...

_Oh, God,_ he thought. _My boys..._

* * *

Kyrano came to his feet as the settee clicked into place, sealing magnetically to the floor surrounding it. He scanned the Lounge around him and, finding nothing, entered the elevator and stepped out onto the floor above, the great rocket's sleeping quarters. Yet again, everything seemed to be in order, and he was soon on his way to the floor housing life support and gravity systems. A quick look through the door told him all was well.

The elevator came to rest on the cockpit level. The door hissed open and Kyrano started as an ear-piercing cry permeated the air. His head snapped up just in time to see Jeff Tracy hurtling over the edge of the elevator platform, the John marionette swinging around his neck before flying off into the air.

"Mr. Tracy! Nooo!"


	8. Chapter 8

**_CHAPTER EIGHT_ **

Scott raised his arm and looked into his wrist communicator. "Alan, come in."

"Right here, Scott."

"You find anything?"

"No, everything's quiet in the hangar. I was about to head down the ramp. You?"

"Nothing. She's in good shape," Scott replied, glancing around at his cockpit. "Hang on, I'll join you."

"F.A.B."

* * *

Gordon exited Thunderbird 2 Lab and walked along the conveyer belt, machine pistol at the ready. He shone his torch into the shadows between each pod, but didn't see anything out of the ordinary. As he reached the end of the belt, he headed for the pod vehicle maintenance bay. He'd barely gotten through the door when his watch beeped.

"Hi, Virgil."

"Gordon, you got anything out there?"

"Nope, not yet. 2's lab and the belt are clear, I was just on my way into the Maint Bay. How's your girl lookin'?"

"Fine. I've been through every nook and cranny. I don't see that marionette anywhere. I'll give Dad's jet a once-over, then head for the Secondary. Any of the pod hatches seem disturbed?"

"Didn't hit that side yet. I'll look in each of 'em after I'm done here."

"All right. Keep in touch."

"F.A.B."

* * *

John stirred, startling Tin-Tin, who was standing nearby with a laser rifle slung over her shoulder. Ruth Tracy frowned as she took in her grandson's unsettled state.

"He looks like he's having a nightmare," she commented.

"Yes, I imagine he is. Being attacked by something that should be inanimate must be wreaking havoc with his mind."

"Do you really think those things are possessed?"

Tin-Tin sighed. "I don't know, Mrs. Tracy. Father talks of such things being possible, but I have never witnessed demonic possession in any form, either of humans or things."

They heard something rustle outside the Sick Room door. Ruth came to her feet, a laser pistol seeming to appear from nowhere and settle into her hand. These were the times she was very glad her late husband Grant had insisted upon teaching her how to shoot a handgun.

Tin-Tin crept to the middle of the room, laser rifle pointed directly at the door. The muffled scraping continued and Ruth took aim as well. She and Tin-Tin exchanged glances before squaring the door in their sights once more.

A loud beeping was heard, and Tin-Tin jumped, nearly firing the rifle. It was her wrist com, someone was trying to contact her. "Yes?" she answered.

Scott's face greeted her, but he looked panic-stricken. "Tin-Tin! Get the Sick Room ready! Have it open!"

"Scott? What's going on?"

"It's Father!"

She and Ruth looked at each other, but couldn't ask any questions, as Scott had signed off.

"Something's happened to Jeff. We have to open that door."

"I know," Tin-Tin replied, steeling herself. "Mrs. Tracy, get behind the door. When I count three, key it open. If anyone other than a family member is out there, they're going down."

Ruth nodded and moved to the right of the door. "Ready," she said, her face puckered into a frown.

"One...two...three!"

Ruth punched the control panel and the door hissed open. The sight of a miniature John Tracy standing in the doorway carrying one of his arms in his hand, his head slightly askew and one eyeball shattered, momentarily took Tin-Tin aback.

"Oh!" Ruth exclaimed.

Small John rushed Tin-Tin, dropping his arm in the process. She took aim and fired, the blast searing through his chest and catapulting him back out the door. He landed with a thud against the wall before sliding down to the floor.

* * *

"Mr. Tracy!" Kyrano cried again, running across the cockpit and through the hatch. He dropped the pistol to the platform floor as he reached the railing. His pounding heart soared when he saw his benefactor still hanging on...though not by much.

"Kyrano! I'm slipping!" Jeff gritted out, the pain making speech nearly impossible.

Quickly assessing his options, Kyrano noticed that although the majority of the four-foot-tall metal cage around the platform was mesh, there was a gap between it and the top railing that ran around the entire structure. He grasped the railing and hoisted himself up, perching like a cat on its six-inch width.

Using his hands to hold himself up, he hooked his feet around and under the railing, then allowed himself to fall forward slowly, the discipline of the martial arts taking over. With his feet hooked securely between the rail and the mesh, he stretched his full length and reached out. He could just barely touch Jeff's hand, the one that held the platform so precariously.

"Mr. Tracy!" he called out, his voice tranquil. "You must take my hand!"

Jeff groaned. He felt himself slipping into unconsciousness. His mind just couldn't bear the pain his shoulder was causing. He kept telling himself he had to fight, he had to keep from falling. But his fingers were barely holding him.

"Kyrano, I-I can't reach-" he said, trying to bring his good arm up as high as it would go.

"You must swing yourself upward," Kyrano replied quietly.

"I won't be able to hold on!" As he heard his friend speak again, a feeling began to come over him...one of peace...of calm.

"I will catch you, Mr. Tracy. You must hurry."

Jeff had no earthly idea how he was going to be able to get up enough momentum to reach Kyrano's outstretched hands, but he trusted his old friend's words. As he felt the fingers of his hand slide for the last time, he gathered all his strength, swung his legs back and threw them forward, the momentum carrying him just within reach of Kyrano's hands.

Kyrano grasped Jeff's hand securely between his own. Had Jeff been looking up at that precise moment, he would've seen that Kyrano's eyes were closed. Smiling slightly, Kyrano opened his eyes and pulled Jeff's hand a little closer to his face. Twisting it a little, he brought Jeff's wrist com as close to his mouth as he could.

Jeff watched, wondering what Kyrano was doing, unable to believe he'd caught him. That he'd saved his life.

"This is Kyrano calling Scott. Come in, Scott."

"Scott here. What the--Kyrano, you're upside down! What's going on?"

"We require your assistance in Thunderbird 3 silo."

* * *

Within minutes, Alan, Gordon, Scott and Virgil were racing into the huge cavern beneath the roundhouse. They looked around wildly, but saw no one.

"Kyrano!" Alan called out. "Where are you?"

They heard a faint "Up here!" and looked above their heads.

"My God!" Scott cried as he took in the sight of his father dangling from the platform.

Before Scott could even react, Virgil was at the platform elevator control panel, keying in the command that would bring it down. "Hang on!" he called out.

Scott raised his arm and spoke into his wrist com. "Tin-Tin! Get the Sick Room ready! Have it open!"

"Scott? What's going on?"

"It's Father!"

Gordon, Scott and Alan took off their shirts, tying them together quickly to create a sort of hammock in case their father should fall. All four young men watched anxiously as the platform moved slowly toward them. When it reached about 100 feet, it was Alan who noticed exactly _how_ Jeff was hanging.

"Kyrano's got him!" he said in wonder.

"Father! Are you hurt?" Scott yelled up.

But it was Kyrano who answered, "Yes!"

"Virg, you and Alan bring a stretcher."

"Right," Virgil replied as he and Alan boarded the monorail.

Scott took up the watch with Gordon as their father and Kyrano continued to descend. When at last they were about six feet off the ground, Scott reached up and grabbed Jeff's legs. It was only after he wrapped his arms around his father's thighs, and Gordon had his waist that Kyrano let go.

"What happened?" Gordon asked as Kyrano disentangled himself from the platform cage.

"Your father was attacked by the missing marionette," he replied. "Thankfully, I was there to assist him."

"Looks like you did more than assist," Scott commented as they laid Jeff out on the floor. "Father, can you hear me? Are you all right?"

Jeff blinked as he looked into Gordon's eyes and then Scott's. "Yeah. I'll be okay as soon as you pop my shoulder back into place." He moved slightly and winced.

"I don't think we'd better do anything, Father, until Tin-Tin can get a look at you."

Scott nodded. "Gordon's right. Just lie still. Virgil and Alan should be back with the stretcher any minute."

Jeff looked back and to his right where Kyrano stood, silently keeping watch. "Kyrano," he rasped as another stab of pain hit. "Thank you."

"It was an honor, Sir."

Jeff nodded and closed his eyes, willing the pain to go away. All he could think of was how close he'd come to not being there. How close his sons had come to losing their only remaining parent. He had only Kyrano to thank for not letting that happen. How had he done it?

As if echoing his father's thoughts, Scott asked, "Kyrano, how'd you get yourself hooked to the cage like that?"

"It was the only way I could reach your father. There was no alternative."

Gordon grinned. He really didn't know what had happened, but it didn't matter. All that mattered was that Jeff was safe. "Thanks."

"Yeah, Kyrano. Thanks."

Kyrano bowed. "You are welcome, boys. Ah, Virgil and Alan have arrived."

* * *

Virgil, Alan and Kyrano remained behind to search Thunderbird 3 silo, looking for the marionette Kyrano told them had fallen from the raised platform while Scott and Gordon took their father in the monorail.

They maneuvered the hover stretcher out of the monorail and through the access tunnel that would take them to the house. The trio quickly approached the hall leading to the Sick Room, but was surprised when they heard a blast directly ahead of them.

* * *

John was startled awake by the sound of laser fire. He sat bolt upright in bed, bringing his hand to his head as pain shot straight down into his neck.

"Aa!" he gasped, his eyes moving to look at the two women in the room. "Tin-Tin? Grandma? What's goin' on?"

Ruth stared at the marionette, which sat lifeless against the hallway wall, a gaping hole right through its chest. Tin-Tin turned to John, wide-eyed.

"We just killed your marionette."

"You did _what_?"

Ruth sprang back into action, rushing to her grandson's side. "Apparently something's happened to your father," she said.

"Yes, Scott called and told us to open the door for them. When we did, the puppet attacked!"

"What's happened to Father?"

"We don't know--" Ruth began to reply. But shouting from the hall interrupted her.

"Tin-Tin! Grandma! John!" a voice yelled. Within seconds, Scott appeared in the doorway. Gordon was close behind pushing the hover stretcher, upon which laid Jeff, his brow covered with sweat.

"Oh, Mr. Tracy!" Tin-Tin cried, rushing to the man's side.

"John, we heard a laser blast, what happened?"

"Tin-Tin killed my puppet," John replied.

"She killed it?" Gordon asked, standing on the other side of the stretcher.

"Yes," Tin-Tin said. "I did. I hit it right in the chest."

Gordon frowned, looking all around the room. "I don't see it anywhere."

"It's out in the hall," Grandma said as she, Tin-Tin and Scott worked to get Jeff into a second bed.

Gordon's normally golden-tan skin turned several progressively lighter shades of white. "A-Are you sure?" he managed to squeak.

"Yes, Gordon, we're sure. We both saw it happen," Tin-Tin said as she began examining Jeff's shoulder. "It's out in the hall."

"Uh...guys?"

"What is it, Gordo?" John asked, noticing the odd sound in his brother's voice.

"Tin-Tin, come here."

"Gordon, I really don't have time, I must set your father's shoulder."

Gordon's voice rose in pitch. "Tin-Tin. Come here."

She whipped around. Tin-Tin had never heard that tone of voice from him before. Everyone watched as she walked around the stretcher, her eyes never leaving Gordon's. He wordlessly pointed to the wall outside the door, where a dark burn in the paint told of the laser beam that had hit it.

Tin-Tin gasped, her hands covering her mouth. "Oh, my God!"

"What?" Scott asked. "What is it?"

Tin-Tin turned slowly to face them. "It's gone. The puppet...it's gone."


	9. Chapter 9

_**CHAPTER NINE**_

The guard raised his eyebrows in appreciation of the lovely young woman arriving at the gate in a somewhat out-of-place white van. She looked Asian, and had long, shiny black hair. "Hello, ma'am," he said, smiling. "Who are you here for?"

"I am a temporary secretary for Dr. Byron Levin, Sir. I have been fulfilling these duties for the past two days."

The guard, a forty-something man with light brown hair, checked the computer. "What's your name?"

"Mei Ling."

"Ah, yes, here you are. All right, do you know where you're going?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Here's your temp ID, go on ahead."

"Thank you, Sir."

The guard stared after the woman as she drove away. She was almost...mesmerizing.

* * *

Brains shook off his feelings of dread...well, best as he could, anyway. One drawback to having a brilliant mind was that it never stopped working. Even while he slept, his brain went a thousand miles a minute. And now, as he maneuvered Ladybird closer to her destination, he couldn't turn that part of his mind off that had remembered the man he now knew as The Hood.

He'd run into Evil again at Lake Anasta. Once he'd seen those eyes...he'd known instantly it was the same man from Cincinnati. He'd toyed with him then, burying him up to his neck in the sand, leaving him to bake in the desert sun. And then he'd tried to kill him in the underwater temple. Brains wasn't certain why he hadn't kidnapped him right then and there, but surmised the promise of millions in treasure had gotten the best of his judgment.

"This is Ladybird calling Tokyo Air Control. ETA fifteen minutes. Request permission to land."

"This is Tokyo Air Control. Permission granted. Approach from west, runway 4-2."

Brains opened his mouth and almost said "F.A.B.," but managed to reply, "Roger that," instead.

The closer he got to the airport, the more he felt he should turn back. Just turn the plane around and head for the sanctuary of the island.

"I can't," he suddenly said aloud, shaking his head. "I can't run and hide forever."

* * *

Having gotten over the initial shock of finding the John marionette missing, Tin-Tin returned to Jeff and went about setting his shoulder. Scott held his good arm down while the others hovered nearby.

"Are you ready, Mr. Tracy?"

Jeff nodded, gritting his teeth, waiting for the pain he knew was just around the corner.

"All right. This is really going to hurt," she said by way of warning. He closed his eyes and Tin-Tin pulled his arm out quickly so it was perpendicular to his body.

Jeff grunted, but maintained his composure. Then she lifted the arm slightly and shoved it toward him. Everyone in the room could hear the sickening pop as the shoulder was forced to realign. Jeff managed to stifle most of his cry, but couldn't keep it all inside.

"Thank God that's over," he breathed, visibly paled.

"All right, Mr. Tracy, I'm going to give you a painkiller. It should take the edge off."

"No, Tin-Tin," Jeff ground out as Scott helped him sit up. "I can't be blinded by painkillers right now. Not with that puppet loose."

This reminded Tin-Tin of what had happened, and she returned to the hall where Gordon was inspecting the burn mark on the wall.

"You're sure you hit it..."

"Yes, Gordon, I'm certain. There was a hole in its chest the size of an apple. I _know_ I hit it."

"Well, it seems to have gotten up and walked away."

Jeff appeared in the doorway, not altogether steady on his feet, but otherwise none the worse for wear. "Where are the other marionettes?"

"I put them in Containment Unit Alpha at the base of the shaft."

"Okay, Gordon. Where are Virgil, Alan and Kyrano?"

"They stayed behind in Thunderbird 3 silo, Father, they were looking for the marionette," Scott supplied.

"Well, you'd better warn them it's on the loose. We should get down to the shaft and make sure those other puppets are secure."

Before Scott could even lift his wrist com, there was a commotion coming from the end of the hall. Jeff, Gordon and Tin-Tin turned to face that direction.

"What's going on out there?" Ruth asked from her position near John.

"I don't know," Scott replied. "Gordon?"

"Oh, no!" Tin-Tin cried. "Everyone, back in the room!"

"What--?" Jeff began, but was cut off as Gordon and Tin-Tin shoved him backwards before turning and slamming the door shut with a hit to the keypad. Gordon quickly punched in the lockdown codes that would seal the entire house along with all Thunderbird hangers and silos.

Scott frowned as he approached his younger brother. "What the hell is going on?"

"The puppets," Tin-Tin breathed, visibly shaken. "They're out there."

"How can that be?" Jeff asked, his eyes widening.

"I don't know, Father," Gordon replied, concern etched on his face. "But they were out there. All six of 'em."

"And their eyes," Tin-Tin said as she seated herself wearily on the edge of the bed. "Their eyes were red. Glowing red."

Wild laughter echoed beyond the door as small footsteps approached. They could hear hissing and speech, but the language was foreign to them. Almost everyone jumped as something banged on the door.

"They're trying to get in," Scott said.

"What are we going to do, Jeff?"

Jeff shook his head. Aside from Ruth's laser pistol and Tin-Tin's laser rifle, he saw no weapons in sight. "I don't know, Mother. I just don't know."

* * *

"Where is he?" the janitor growled. He looked like your average Joe, his bushy blonde hair tucked beneath a cap, body clad in a navy blue cover-all.

Mei looked up from her seat behind a mahogany desk, seemingly unsurprised at being spoken to in such a manner.

"He was delayed. Reason unknown. I have just been informed via text message that his craft has landed at Tokyo Airport. He should arrive within the hour."

The janitor rubbed his hands together in glee. "At last, Mr. Hackenbacker," he snarled, "thanks to my marionettes, you will be mine. As will the technology behind the Thunderbirds!"

* * *

Having landed smoothly at Tokyo airport, Brains enjoyed a rather swift cab ride through the streets of downtown Tokyo and into the large industrial complex owned by Tracy Engineering. During the forty-minute trip, he'd managed to put his mind off The Hood and back onto the project he was in Tokyo to meet with Dr. Levin about to begin with: a compact air shield device that, theoretically, would eliminate the need for bulky flight suits used at high altitudes.

He'd developed the idea for use by International Rescue. Alan and Scott had both tested it back on the island. There were a few modifications needed after Scott nearly passed out at twenty thousand feet, but subsequent modifications and testing had seemed to iron all the kinks out. Jeff suggested the device would be useful to Tracy Corporation, and had asked Brains to pass the invention along to Dr. Levin.

For the past three weeks, Dr. Levin and his associates had been testing and doing some redesigning, with Brains' help via vid-conference. Now it was time for the final shakedown, so the product could be registered and demonstrated to potential clients worldwide.

The device itself resembled a thin, rather flat box. It was silver in color and strapped onto the back of a pilot. Once activated, it covered its wearer with a protective barrier that meant a man could move uninhibited at high altitudes, leaving his hands and body free for any type of maneuvers that might be required.

Dr. Levin had even gone a step further and begun a project to modify the ASD1 for use in space travel. His hope was that one day astronauts would be able to float in space and bounce around on the moon wearing nothing more than their normal clothing and an ASD2. Brains found the prospect of such a feat titillating, and had agreed to go over ASD2's design specifications with the doctor after ASD1's shakedown test.

Now, as he approached Dr. Levin's office, his step was light, as was his heart. His mind was spinning with some new ideas he had for ASD2, and he couldn't wait to see how they panned out in the laboratory. He approached a double-set of gray doors that were on the 3rd underground floor of one of the buildings in the park. This was Dr. Levin's floor, where new products were constantly being invented and tested. Brains had visited here several times in the past and never failed to enjoy himself. For a genius inventor, it was like being a child in a toy store.

* * *

"Find anything you can get your hands on that can be used as a weapon," Scott said, subconsciously slipping into command mode.

Tin-Tin handed her laser rifle to John, whose head was still throbbing mercilessly. She made for a cabinet that housed various surgical instruments and began ripping vacuum-sealed bags open, trying to find things that they could use to defend themselves.

Ruth, Jeff and Gordon spread out. Cupboards flew open and things started flying as they tore through the room in search of anything that made sense in the moment.

Scott lifted his wrist com. "Virgil, do you read me? Virg, come in."

"Yeah, Scott. We're not having any luck down here."

"That's because they're up here."

"They're _what_? You mean _all_ of them?"

Scott nodded. "Listen, they're really giving it to the door. I don't know how much longer it'll hold. We've sealed the island so they can't escape."

"Do you have weapons?"

"Just two. We're looking around now for things we can use."

It was Gordon who first noticed the strange sound coming from the infirmary door. It was a hissing, crackling sound. "What is that?" he asked.

They all listened for a moment, before a look of horror settled on Scott's face. "Oh, my God."

"Scott?" Jeff asked, taking the laser pistol his mother offered him.

"They're using the oxyhydnite gas to cut through the door!"

"Oh, no!" Tin-Tin gasped.

Virgil's voice was tinged with worry as it came through Scott's communicator. "We're on our way."

"Hurry, Virgil. We're running out of time."

* * *

Brains passed through the double doors and saw a desk to the left of the waiting area. He was struck by the beauty of the woman who sat behind it. She was decidedly Asiatic and wore a red silk skirt suit with a white silk blouse beneath it. Her long, black hair was so shiny it almost glowed. He approached the desk somewhat nervously.

"Uh, hello, there. I'm here to see Dr. Levin."

Her voice, when she spoke, was low and sultry. "I take it you are Mr. Hackenbacker."

"Why, yes, I-I am."

"Please be seated. Dr. Levin will be with you in a moment."

Brains nodded, dumbfounded by her beauty. It was all he could do to make it over to the nearest chair without tripping over his own feet. He plopped onto his hind end, paying no heed to the man who was watering the potted palm to his right.

He didn't catch sight of the woman looking up at the janitor. He didn't see the janitor put his watering hose down. He didn't feel the man moving towards him. He didn't sense how close he was. He didn't notice anything amiss...until the hairs on the back of his neck stood on end.

Brains knew that feeling. He'd know it anywhere. No. It couldn't be. He gasped, jumping to his feet. He heard a low growl and could feel warm breath on his right ear. He shivered, then froze as his eyes shifted to the right.

_Dear God, no._

"Hello, Mr. Hackenbacker," the man menaced, his dark eyes glittering.

Brains closed his eyes tightly, all the fear he'd felt seven years ago returning ten-fold. For now, it was worse. Now...he knew all of International Rescue's secrets. His head filled with those terrible things he'd seen back then when his mind had been linked to The Hood's. Terrifying images that seemed larger-than-life.

Mei came to stand on Brains' left. He opened his eyes and looked helplessly at her, silently pleading for her assistance. But she just stood there, cold and unfeeling, staring right through him.

Seemingly of its own volition, his mouth opened and he yelled, "Help!"

Belah grabbed Brains' head in his hands, his nose mere inches from the engineer's face. "I think it is time we get reacquainted, Hiram Hackenbacker."

Brains winced, unable to take his eyes from those of the man before him.

The Hood grinned evilly. "Or should I say...Brains."


	10. Chapter 10

_**CHAPTER TEN**_

Kyrano, Virgil and Alan disembarked the monorail and entered the access tunnel that would take them up into the Lounge. They were laden with all manner of weaponry, including laser rifles, machine pistols and something that very much resembled a bazooka.

Virgil led the way and held his machine pistol at the ready as the door slid open. He found the Lounge empty and motioned for the others to follow him. The trio crept through the stillness, straining to hear any sound that might tell them what was going on.

When at last they reached the top of the hall leading to the bedrooms, they spied their quarry. All six marionettes were standing outside the Sick Room door, the Scott puppet using an oxyhydnite torch to gain access. The humans retreated around the corner to discuss what they'd seen and what their options might be.

"How the heck did they all get loose?" Virgil wondered aloud.

"That John one must've set them free," Alan replied. "And they've got an oxyhydnite torch!"

"They're a lot smarter than I figured," Virgil said, his brow knitting into a frown. "Damn things. What're we gonna do?"

"I say we just let loose with the bazooka," Alan whispered. "It should take every one of them out."

"Good idea, except we could also hurt everyone in the Sick Room," Virgil replied.

"Well, if we just open up on 'em with the rifles and pistols, some would have enough time to get away and come after us."

Virgil nodded and noticed Kyrano looking thoughtful. "Kyrano? What about you? Any suggestions?"

"I think perhaps I could confuse them long enough to allow you to utilize your smaller weapons."

"Confuse them?" Alan asked. "How?"

"How is not important. If you give me a moment, I shall be ready."

Virgil eyed Kyrano with a mixture of confusion and awe. He was so calm and seemed so sure of himself at this moment, something Virgil wasn't accustomed to from his father's old friend.

"Right. Alan, you take that side, I'll take this."

Alan nodded and dashed across the hall opening, hoping he hadn't been spotted. Kyrano closed his eyes and placed his hands together in front of him, palms touching, and fingers straight. Just as Kyrano stepped into the hall, they heard the clunk of the metal Sick Room door as it fell.

The puppets were through.

* * *

"Oh, where are they?" Tin-Tin asked as the hole in the door became larger.

"They're on their way, Tin-Tin," Scott soothed. "Virgil knows we're in trouble. Right now we have to make sure we can take these bastards when they get thr-"

Scott didn't even have a chance to finish his sentence when the oxyhydnite torch clicked off and a portion of the door fell inwards. Gordon, standing protectively in front of John near Bed 2, took aim and fired with the laser rifle.

He hit the first one through the door, Small Alan, who stumbled backwards for a moment before continuing forward. Small Jeff, still clad in its Santa Claus outfit, came charging in wielding a butcher knife.

It headed straight for Jeff, would was standing in front of Ruth and Tin-Tin. "Now, you _die_!" it hissed, the blade of the knife slicing into flesh.

"Aaaaaaaaaa!" Jeff cried as the steel raked a path across his chest. His shirt fell open, cut away by the knife, revealing a 10-inch gash that began leaking blood.

"_Father_!" Scott, John and Gordon cried in unison.

Jeff raised his laser pistol level with Small Jeff's head and fired. It staggered back, but the hole where its left eye had been didn't seem to stop it. The other puppets rushed into the room, fanning out, waving knives and an ice pick they'd found in the kitchen.

The Sick Room turned into a war zone. Laser shots fired everywhere. Light glinted off shiny metal blades. Small John headed for the real John, but Gordon gave it a swift kick to the gut that sent it flying across the room. Ruth came 'round behind Small Gordon, who was advancing on Tin-Tin. She swung the scalpel at it, effectively slicing open the back of its neck, distracting it long enough for Tin-Tin to karate-kick it away.

Small Virgil squared off with Jeff, who took aim with the laser pistol. It laughed maniacally and leapt clean over him, landing on the bed behind Gordon and John. Scott, on the other side of the bed, grabbed hold of the puppet and twisted its head, trying to break its neck. Then he threw it toward the door, where it landed on the hall floor outside. They were fighting valiantly, but the puppets clearly had the upper hand. They seemed to be indestructible. The humans, most definitely, were not.

"Scott!" Gordon yelled. But it was too late. Small Scott jabbed its knife clean through Scott's thigh, then yanked it out. He roared in pain, his legs buckling beneath him.

Ruth was at his side in an instant and used a chair to knock Small Scott away. Tin-Tin took off her outer shirt, leaving only her sleeveless tank on. She quickly wrapped the shirt around Scott's thigh as Small Jeff jumped her from behind. It seemed to have lost its knife in the melee and was doing its best to choke her to death.

Then, just as suddenly as the attack had begun, it stopped. The puppets all looked toward the door as though hearing something. Tin-Tin used the opportunity to grab Small Jeff and hurl it across the room. When it landed, it scrambled to its feet and headed for the door, followed by the other five.

"What's going on?" Ruth asked as she and Tin-Tin helped Scott to his feet.

"It must...be...Virg..." Scott ground out through the pain.

* * *

"Now, my little engineer, you are mine at last!" Belah gloated, amused by Brains' look of horror. "You should know you couldn't hide from me. Even after all these years."

"What're you gonna do to me?"

"Bleed your mind dry."

Brains gulped. He took stock of his surroundings and found himself hanging from a high ceiling in the large, cavernous room he'd seen seven years ago during his mind's connection to Belah's. The manacles on his wrists were cutting into his flesh. He used that pain to keep himself as alert as possible, avoiding Belah's eyes and concentrating on anything but his predicament.

_Where are the fellas when you need them?_ he thought.

As if in response to his unspoken question, Belah said, "You needn't worry your friends from International Rescue are coming to save you. They are...a bit _busy_ at the moment, I suspect."

"What? You mean...the puppets...oh, my God..."

Belah nodded, quite pleased with himself. "Yes, Mr. Hackenbacker. The puppets. They are actually inhabited by six demons. They have been feeding me information, which is how I discovered _you_. You were a stroke of luck. I should have known it was your mind behind International Rescue's technology. And since I have you, there is no need for the Tracy family to live. I suspect even at this moment most of your _friends_ lie dead."

"No," Brains whispered, closing his eyes against the torturous thought.

Suddenly Belah felt something. He stiffened, then turned toward the statue of Manay not ten feet away. Brains opened his eyes, mystified by his captor's silence. He watched as Belah strode to a large statue that looked like part-dragon, part-bull. He raised his arms in the air and closed his eyes.

Brains pulled at the manacles with all his might. Whatever was about to happen, he knew he didn't want to be around for it. But nothing he did seemed to work. He was held fast. It was obvious by Belah's countenance that something had gone wrong. Brains fervently hoped that something was that the Tracys were defeating those god-awful marionettes.

* * *

"What's he doing?" Alan asked.

Virgil shrugged and shook his head. Kyrano looked for all the world like he was meditating. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as his lips moved in silence.

"Virg, look!" Alan exclaimed, pointing down the hall.

The six marionettes walked slowly into the hall as though in a trance. They headed directly for the trio, but seemed to stare right through them.

_He has lied to you,_ Kyrano said within his mind. _He will not grant you eternal life. Once you have killed the humans, he will be done with you. He will have no more use for you._

"You lie!" Small Jeff spat.

_No! I have seen it myself. I am his half-brother. I see what he sees._

The puppets stopped about halfway down the hall and seemed to come back to themselves.

"He means to betray us!" Small Alan said.

"The Master would not do such a thing," Small Scott replied.

"He would if it were in his best interests," Small Virgil retorted, its face growing ugly at the thought. "The fool is right. I can sense his connection to The Master."

"As can I," Small Jeff interjected.

The real Jeff and the real Scott exited the Sick Room and watched the scene unfold. Gordon and Tin-Tin were right behind them.

"What's happening, Father?"

"I'm not sure, Gordon, but look at Kyrano," Jeff whispered. "I think he just saved our hides."

_You must take your revenge!_ Kyrano thought. _You must not let him use you so!_

"Yes, revenge!" Small Gordon cackled. "I, for one, will not allow him to get away with this betrayal!"

Just then, the floor lurched violently beneath their feet, knocking everyone off-balance. Virgil, Alan and those from the Sick Room fell, but Kyrano remained steadfast. They could hear things flying from shelves and clattering to the floor. Then there was what could only be described as a deafening explosion.

The puppets recoiled, as if in horror.

"The Pure One is right!" Small Jeff howled. "The Master has sent Manay to reclaim us!"

"We cannot allow this!" Small Scott yelled.

_You must leave before it is too late. Go!_ Kyrano ordered.

As the floor continued to tremble beneath their feet, both groups of humans in the hall watched in awe as the marionettes began jerking and moaning. All at once, dark shadows seemed to leave their bodies, and the puppets sank to the floor, lifeless. The shadows slipped up into the ceiling, disappearing from view.

Kyrano took a deep breath and opened his eyes, letting his hands fall back to his sides. "They are gone."

"Kyrano, what'd you do?" Gordon asked, stepping warily over the puppets on the floor.

"I believe I have convinced them that the Hood never meant to grant them eternal life, which is what he promised if they were successful in this mission. I convinced them he was going to betray them. They have gone to seek their revenge."

"Father!" Tin-Tin cried, running to hug the older man. "I didn't know you could do that."

Kyrano smiled into her dark hair. "There is much you do not know, my daughter. But I shall teach you. Soon, I shall teach you."

"Why is the house moving?" Scott asked, using his good leg to kick the marionettes into a pile on the side of the hall.

"Let's get the security cameras going so we can take a look," Jeff replied. "Alan, Gordon, Virgil...bring those marionettes."

Everyone filed into the Lounge and watched as Scott brought up live shots of various vantage points on the island, one in each of the boys' portraits.

"Jesus!" John breathed as he took in the feed from Gordon's portrait. It showed the view from a camera situated on the opposite end of the island atop the boathouse.

"My God," Jeff said softly, eyes widening in horror. "The volcano. It's blown."


	11. Chapter 11

_**CHAPTER ELEVEN**_

"What is happening?" Belah roared, turning on his prisoner. "They have broken their connection!"

"Serves you right," Brains mumbled. He could only hope that the demons' severing their connection with this madman was a good thing.

"Silence!" Belah cried, striding across the room to Brains. He grabbed the hair at the back of his head and yanked it up so they were eye-to-eye. "You will give me all of International Rescue's secrets. Now!"

"No!" Brains struggled to look away, but he just couldn't keep his gaze from settling onto those dark, glittering eyes. "No..." he said more softly. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and said, "I would rather die."

Belah let his head go and backed away. "By the time I am finished with you, you will _wish_ you were dead."

* * *

"But the volcano that created this island has been dormant for thousands of years," Virgil said, staring at the scene with the rest of his family.

"It is the Master Demon," Kyrano said quietly.

"What?" Jeff asked. "What're you talkin' about?"

"The demons which inhabited the marionettes serve one Master Demon. You heard them speak his name. Manay. He is the Master of Possession. In my country, he is the most feared of all Master Demons."

"Are you saying," Scott asked, still unable to wrap his mind around everything, "that a demon made the volcano on this island erupt?"

Kyrano nodded. "Yes. I can feel its presence. It has come to help its children."

"At least the lava is flowing away from the house," Gordon commented, ever the optimist. "What do we do, Dad?"

"Well, Kyrano, you seem to have more experience with this sort of thing. Any suggestions?"

"Yes, Mr. Tracy. We must destroy the marionettes. Once the demons have finished with the Hood, they will return. If the puppets' bodies are still available, they will be able to inhabit them once more."

"How do we do that?" Ruth asked. "Blowing holes in them doesn't even stop them."

"We must take them to the volcano. They must be incinerated."

"Are you sure that's the only way, Father?" Tin-Tin asked.

"Yes. The people in my village burned the demon dolls in white-hot fire. I can think of no fire hotter than that within a volcano."

"All right," Jeff said, turning to face the others. "Scott, you're out of action with that leg wound. Virgil, you, Gordon, Alan and I will take the puppets to the volcano and destroy them."

"I believe I should be present. Manay is very powerful."

Jeff nodded. "Right, Kyrano, you're with us. Tin-Tin, I want you to fix Scott's leg up. John, you keep an eye on your grandmother. If something happens, contact us immediately!"

"Okay, Father," John replied as the foursome headed back toward the Sick Room.

"Let's get into our heat suits," Jeff said, heading for the passenger elevator. "And bring those puppets. We've got some bodies to burn."

* * *

Belah went to the nearby altar and picked up a small recording device. "Are you ready to tell me what I wish to know?"

"N-Not in this l-lifetime," Brains stammered.

Belah was in front of him like a shot. He wrapped his hands around Brains' neck and squeezed, making it difficult for him to breathe. Grabbing his chin with one large hand, Belah looked him dead in the eyes.

"You _will_ tell me," Belah said menacingly as his eyes began to glow. "You will tell me _now_."

"No." Brains struggled to loosen his captor's grip, but couldn't avert his eyes. Slowly a fog descended over his brain and he began to lose his hold on reality. Within seconds, he was unconscious.

Belah threw the recorder back onto the altar. He'd thought Brains would be easier to control, but it didn't matter. He'd get what he wanted out of him sooner or later.

He was startled by shrieks coming from above his head. Belah looked up in time to see the six demons he'd summoned for the marionettes swooping down from the ceiling.

"What are you doing here?" he bellowed.

"You mean to betray us!" one of the demons howled.

"What are you talking about?"

"You sent Manay to take us back!"

"No! I sent Manay to _help_ you!"

"_Liar_!" one demon screamed.

"You shall not get away with this!"

"No! Wait! Listen to me! I am your master! _I am your master_!" As the demons attacked, Belah could do nothing but scream. "Aaaaaaaaaaa!"

* * *

Jeff, Gordon, Alan and Kyrano stood in the rear of Thunderbird 2's cockpit while Virgil was in the pilot's chair.

"I can't get too close," Virgil said. "She can't stand this much heat."

"Neither could we without these suits," Alan chimed in.

"Well, Brains put that heat-resistant sealant on 2 a couple of weeks ago," Jeff said. "I sure hope it holds."

"He is here," Kyrano spoke softly. "He is furious."

"Who?" Gordon asked.

"Manay. He cannot find his children. He does not know where they are."

"With any luck, they're killing that sonofabitch who started this," Virgil said as he neared the spewing volcano. "Kyrano, how did you know it was the Hood?"

"I could sense it, Virgil. I could sense it."

Thunderbird 2 hung several thousands of feet in the air, smoke and ash making it impossible to see through the cockpit windows.

"Hull temperature rising," Virgil warned.

"We'd better get ready to release the puppets," Jeff said, heading for the vehicle's nose. Kyrano nodded and fell in line, followed by Alan and Gordon. "Hold her steady, son."

"Will do, Dad," Virgil replied.

The foursome gathered in the cavity beneath the cockpit, where they each put on breathing apparatus. They all stopped to look for a moment at the beautiful marionettes, which had started out as a loving Christmas gift from a child...but ended up almost costing them their lives.

"Let's do it," Alan said.

Kyrano closed his eyes as Gordon opened the hatch. Smoke and ash billowed into the hold. Jeff held Small Jeff in one hand and Small Scott in the other. "Sorry Nicky," he said. Then he let them fall.

Gordon picked up Small Gordon and Small John. "Good riddance," he said as he released them.

Alan stepped forward with Small Virgil and Small Alan. The heat from the volcano was like a blast furnace as he stood over the hatch. "May you burn in hell," he whispered as he let them go.

"The hatch, Gordon," Jeff said quietly.

But just as Gordon pressed the button, Thunderbird 2 lurched violently. He stumbled back, one leg falling through the hatch.

"_Gordon_!" Jeff bellowed.

Alan grabbed Gordon's wrists just as the hatch door closed on his leg.

"Aaaaaaaa!" Gordon cried.

Sensitive to the presence of a foreign object in its track, the hatch door slid back and Alan pulled Gordon to safety. Jeff turned around and slammed his hand into the control panel, effectively closing the hatch all the way. Blood began seeping through Gordon's pant leg as he fell to the floor.

"Virgil!" Jeff said into his wrist com. "What happened?"

"A huge fireball almost hit us!"

"Manay was trying to stop us," Kyrano explained.

"Virgil, get us outta here!" Jeff bellowed.

"F.A.B.!"

"_Do_ something, Kyrano!"

"I am attempting to make contact," Kyrano breathed, the strain evident on his face. He'd never tried to contact a Master Demon before. It was difficult, to say the least.

The ship lurched again as Virgil narrowly avoided another fireball. He knocked Thunderbird 2 into full throttle and headed for the sea.

Kyrano sagged against the bulkhead. "I believe I have convinced him to leave."

"How?" Gordon asked through clenched teeth as Alan ripped his pant leg away.

"I told him The Hood was trying to kill his children."

* * *

The first thing Brains heard were the shrieks. Then he heard the wails. Then he heard laughter...evil, deadly laughter. Then he heard moaning. And then he heard silence.

When he was finally able to open his eyes, he was surprised to see the Hood lying motionless on the floor not six feet in front of him. Coming back to consciousness, the pain of his wounds hit him full-force and he cried out.

He sensed movement in his peripheral vision and turned his head to the right. Standing there was the young woman from Dr. Levin's office, the one who'd stood by watching as Belah had kidnapped him.

"Help me," he rasped. "Please."

Mei Ling looked confused. Her eyes darted back and forth between her fallen master and the helpless innocent hanging from the ceiling.

"He doesn't own you anymore," Brains wheezed. "Please. Help me."

Just then, Belah stirred. Mei and Brains both jumped, surprised he was alive. Then there was a loud roar and the temple shook, as though hit by an earthquake. Brains and Mei looked around wildly as chunks of rock and statues began to fall and topple over.

"Quickly!" Brains cried. "The key! Get the key!"

Mei ran to a nearby table and grasped a skeleton key in her hand. She rushed to Brains, but couldn't reach high enough to unlock the manacles. Pocketing the key, she ran away.

"No! Come back!" Brains yelled as the building continued to shake.

His eyes widened in horror as a fiery form emerged from the far wall. It was huge, about eight feet tall. It roared with fury as it made its way to Belah. Six shadows appeared around it, circling and darting to and fro. Their hissing and shrieking increased in decibel until Brains could no longer hear himself think. As the beings approached, he knew he was lost for good.

_I'll never get out of here alive._


	12. Chapter 12

_**CHAPTER TWELVE**_

"Father, look!" Alan said, removing his fire suit hood.

Gordon, hand on Alan's shoulder for support, hobbled closer to the cockpit windows. "It's stopping."

The blast from the volcano's eruption had blown the entire cliff side away. In just a short period of time, the outline of their beloved island had changed. The view before them morphed from an angry, erupting volcano to a mass of quickly cooling lava and small jets of smoke releasing from the crater.

"Thank God for that," Jeff breathed. "Let's get back to the house and see how the others are."

* * *

Brains watched as the fiery figure towered over Belah, who was moving slowly as he regained consciousness. The figure became less and less bright until at last nothing was left but the gold statue Brains had recalled seeing only ten feet away from him on a dais not too long ago. When it spoke, the statue's voice sent vibrations through everything around.

"Kamu menderhaka saya."

"No, Manay, saya tidak," The Hood gasped, pushing himself to all fours.

"Tolol!" the statue bellowed. "Tidak berbohong!"

"Saya cakap benar!" Belah cried, rocking back on his knees. "Ia adalah Kyrano!"

Brains was surprised to hear Kyrano's name. He was further surprised when he suddenly felt the chains above him give way. He crumpled to the floor, the chains falling mercilessly on his head. He groaned, wondering what was going on.

Manay reached out and grasped the front of Belah's black cloak, lifting him off the floor and into the air, his feet dangling. "Kamu akan membayar," he said, shaking him hard. "Melupakan...melupakan..."

The statue passed its hand over Belah's face. For a moment, Belah's eyes glowed yellow. Then his eyelids closed and he hung limp in Manay's grasp.

Mei Ling appeared from nowhere and quickly unlocked the manacles, giving Brains his freedom. Before he could even thank her, she'd disappeared into the shadows. He struggled to his feet and searched the room, trying to locate an exit. He watched as the statue flung Belah across the room. He hit the wall with a sickening thud and fell to the floor, seemingly lifeless.

Brains and Manay stared at one another for endless seconds. The black shadows reappeared and, one-by-one, entered Manay's body. With a mighty roar from his dragon-like mouth, Manay turned his back on Brains and leapt into the bonfire burning brightly behind him.

Staggering back against a large marble column, Brains finally allowed himself to tremble, the rush of adrenaline draining from his body. He swallowed hard a few times, trying desperately to understand what had just happened.

The temple began to shake once more. Chunks of rock fell from the ceiling, one narrowly missing Brains. This jolted him back to reality, and his survival instincts kicked in. He ran away from the bonfire to the opposite wall, where he found a set of double wooden doors as high as the ceiling. He pushed with all his might and soon found himself in a long hallway. At the end of the hallway he could see another door.

Another door...and freedom.


	13. Epilogue

_**EPILOGUE**_

"That should do it. I don't think we'll, uh, be hearing from this volcano again any time soon."

"Nice work, Brains," Jeff said from Brains' wrist com. "How you came up with a way to keep that thing plugged is beyond me."

"Well, uh, Mr. Tracy, I-I do my best."

"Why don't you and Virgil head back here to the house? Mother, Tin-Tin and Kyrano have prepared quite a feast."

"F.A.B.," Brains said. "Let's go, Virgil. I'm starved."

Virgil nodded and smiled at the younger man as they went on their way.

* * *

Scott's leg wound was healing nicely, as was Gordon's. The cut on John's head had all but closed, and he was back on Thunderbird 5 to finish out his tour of duty. The gash on Jeff's chest had begun healing quickly thanks to a remarkable salve Brains had created. Now Jeff sat at his desk, elbows resting on its surface, hands steepled in front of him. He watched as his oldest son entered the room, his limp barely noticeable.

"Father?"

"Mm?"

"Dinner's ready."

"Okay. Be there in a minute, son."

"You all right, Dad?"

"Yeah. I'm all right." Jeff took a moment to look into Scott's eyes. "You?"

Scott flashed him a winning smile. "I'll be as good as new in no time."

Jeff nodded. "Let's hope we've heard the last from The Hood."

"I don't know, Father. Every time we think he's dead, he always turns up."

"I know," Jeff sighed, rising to his feet. "Just promise me one thing."

"What's that?"

"From now on, no more dolls as Christmas presents."

"Agreed!" Scott replied as they headed for the Dining Room.

Belah groaned awake. There was debris covering him, and as he struggled to free himself, he realized that above him was open sky. When at last he came to his feet, he looked around in disbelief.

For the temple was in ruins. It had caved in on itself, as though shaken by a violent earthquake. All his precious statues and works of art had been destroyed. And for the life of him, Belah couldn't remember anything after sitting and reading a newspaper story about International Rescue marionettes being made.

From his lair deep in the bowels of the place Evil dwells, Manay's dragon mouth curved into a smile. His punishment had worked. Belah Gaat, the mortal who had tried to use his children without the intention of repaying their services, didn't remember a thing.

Brains hadn't talked much about what he had seen, but knowing their arch nemesis, Virgil could well imagine. "How'd you do it, Brains?" he finally asked as they hiked the path back to the villa.

"How'd I do what?"

"Withstand him."

Brains stopped and sighed before turning to face his companion. "I-I guess I'm a lot stronger than I look."

Virgil placed his hand on Brains' shoulder and smiled. "That you are, Brains. That you are."

"O-Of course, it doesn't hurt to have a-a Master Demon on your side."

Virgil's eyebrows went up, but he asked no questions. Perhaps one day Brains would tell them what had happened. Until then, everyone was just happy that everyone else had survived this Christmas.

Things on Tracy Island settled back into their normal routine. Physical wounds healed. Mental scars slowly began to fade. International Rescue never told Nicky what happened. They knew he'd never forgive himself. But they kept in regular contact with him and promised he could visit soon.

"There are things greater than we in this universe," Kyrano told them that night as they gathered on the beach to watch the sunset. "Things we cannot comprehend or control. Things we cannot see. Things we cannot touch. Things we cannot hope to understand. There is Darkness, yes. But there is also Light. The Light shines within each of you. Believe in your Light...and you will defeat the Darkness." He lifted his arm and drew Tin-Tin close, placing a soft kiss upon her crown. "You _will_ defeat Darkness," he continued softly. "Always."


End file.
